
Class. 
Book. 



i 



;-0 ? 

THE 
OR, 

PIETY AND USEFULNESS EXEMPLIFIED, 

IN A 

MEMOIR 

OF THE LIFE OF 

SAMUEL HICK, 

LATE OF MICKLEFIELD, YORKSHIRE. 

BY JAMES EVERETT. 



"That not only the maxims, but the grounds of a pure morality, the mere fragments of which 
the 'lofty grave tragedians taught in chorus or iambic,' and that the sublime truths of the-' 
divine unity and attributes, which a Plato found most hard to learn and deemed it still mo e 
difficult to reveal ; that these should have become the almost hereditary property of childhood 
and poverty, of the hovel and the workshop; that even to the unlettered they sound as common- 
place, is a phenomenon which must withhold all but minds of the most vulgar cast from under- 
valuing the services even of the pulpit and the reading-desk." 

Coleridge's Biographia Literaria, vol. 1. p. 226, 



JKtat Canadian, from tije jFtftj 21 Taction. 



TORONTO: 

PUBLISHED BY MATTHEW LANG, FOR THE Wl EVAN 
METHODIST CHURCH IN CAISV 






4do Vd 



. LAWRENCE, PRINTER, 

Muardum .0$c4,>C% Toronto. 



TO 

MR, WILLIAM DAWSON, 

OF BARNBOW, NEAR LEEDS, 

A LOVER OF GOOD MEN, 

AN EXAMPLE OF GOOD WORKS, 

AND A SUCCESSFUL PREACHER OF THE GOSPEL OF 

JESUS CHRIST, 

THIS MEMOIR, 

AS A 3IEMORIAL OF PRIVATE FRIENDSHIP, 

IS RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED, 

BY 

THE AUTHOR, 



ADVERTISEMENT 

TO THE 

FIRST CANADIAN EDITION. 

JL HE " Village Blacksmith" has had a most exten- 
sive circulation in England, and has been productive of 
much good. The pleasing and elegant style in which 
it is written, as well as the striking incident with which 
it abounds, makes it peculiarly attractive to all classes 
of readers. The singularity of some of the facts and 
anecdotes to some sober minds may appear somewhat 
strange, and the writer may be thought to have given 
occasionally a little colouring, and to have indulged too 
much his fine poetical imagination ; but no one who 
knew Samuel will accuse him of this : he has drawn a 
faithful and correct likeness, — a full length portrait, in 
which expression and life is given to every feature. 
If there be a fault, the painting is too good, — the com- 
position too elegant and polished for so rough a subject. 
Many of the most striking anecdotes related in the 
Memoir I had from the lips of Samuel within eight 
months of his death. I have no doubt that the publish, 
ing of this work in Canada will prove a blessing to 
many, which is the sincere prayer of the Editor. 

W. LORD. 

Montreal, July 11th, 1835. 



PREFACE. 



BIOGRAPHERS have occasionally, though perhaps uncon- 
sciously, glided into two opposite extremes: they have either 
depreciated the character of their subjects, or over-rated their 
excellencies. To the former extreme they have been led in 
various ways ; and in none, among the less offensive, more 
than in writing far and near for character ; and after securing 
their object, arranging the different materials in their works, 
like witnesses in a court of justice, to speak for the person in 
question. This, to say the least, is putting the subject on his 
trial. It is in this way that the Life of that excellent man, 
the late Rev. William Bramwell, has been doomed to suffer, 
and permitted to be swelled to an useless extent, by the pub- 
lication of opinions, which were never given with a view to 
appear in print ; and which, if even given for that purpose, 
would have the same weight with the public that the " Names 
of Little Note, recorded in the Biographia Bri'annica," had 
with Cowper, especially in support of the character of such a 
man; a man who required no such adventitious aid, but who, 
after all the prunings and parings of those who least admired 
him, and with only a tithe of his wisdom, looked upon him as 
a weak enthusiast, would have stood a lovely tree in the vine- 
yard of the Lord, refreshing many with his verdure, protecting 
them with his shade, and enriching them with the weight and 
luxuriance of his fruit.* When an author is reduced to the 
necessity of going abroad inquest of character for his subject, 
it is but too evident that the subject has not been sufficiently 

* It is with pleasure that the writer learns, that a new Life of the late Rev. 
William Bramwell is forth-coming, from the pen of J. Bramwell, Esquire, of 

Durham, 



VIII. PREFACE. 

at home with himself to be known; or, that, in addition to a 
paucity of materia), there is either incapacity for the work, or 
doubts of the propriety of its execution. In the present case, 
either the writer has not humility to spare for such condescen- 
sion, or he wishes not to degrade his subject. Having no 
internal misgivings, no suspicion, he considers his hero not as 
on his trial, but one against whom no charge is preferred, and 
therefore deems the witness-box unnecessary. Let him not, 
however, be misunderstood ; for though he has gone in quest 
of materials, he has not gone in search of character. He 
has procured materials, in order to form an opinion of his own; 
materials which rose out of a character already formed — a 
character embodied in a "living epistle" before the public* 
" seen and read of all ;" and but for which character, such 
materials would not have existed. 

The other extreme into which biographers have fallen, has 
had its rise in an overweening anxiety and partiality, inducing 
them on the one hand to render the character as perfect as 
possible, in order to secure on the other an ample share of the 
good opinion of the reader. Here the writer has again to 
plead disinclination. He has taken up the character of Samuel 
Hick as it was, not as he wished it, nor as it ought to be ; and 
has left the man as he found him — in the rough, and unadorn- 
ed; somewhat resembling the blodk of marble upon which the 
first efforts of the artist have been employed, where the human 
form has been brought out of the unfinished mass, in whose 
core are to be found all those hidden qualities which give 
beauty to the surface, only waiting the masterly hand of a 
Phidias, for the purpose of imparting grace, and polish, and 
finish. 

The circumstances under which the following pages com- 
menced, were carried on, and completed, are these: — The 
good man whose life and character they profess to portray, 
deposited with the writer, about three years prior to the period 
of his dissolution, some papers, with a solemn injunction to 
prepare them for publication. These papers were found to 



PREFACE. IX. 

comprise broken materials of personal history, such as he him- 
self alone was capable of throwing together, and such as it 
would fall to the lot of but few, without previous and personal 
acquaintance, to be able to separate and decipher. The pledge 
of preparation was given, without the specification of time> 
on either side, for its fulfilment. Such was the heterogeneal 
character of the papers, and such the complexion of many of 
the facts and incidents, that some of the former were totally 
useless, and some of the latter unfit to meet the public eye; 
the whole requiring another language, and bare allusion being 
sufficient in many instances where amplification had been 
indulged. Sometime previous to the decease of the subject, 
a degree of impatience was expressed for the completion of 
the Memoir : but as no time had been originally specified, and 
as it was known -that the good man was imprudently pushed 
on to recuest its publication during life, by injudicious friend- 
ship, th* work, in mercy to himself, and for the still higher 
honour of the religion he professed, nor less richly enjoyed, 
was purposely delayed ; and delayed the longer, from an im- 
pression that nothing short of the publication of the whole 
would give satisfaction. The writer's vow being still upon 
him, added to which, having been urged by others to furnish 
the public with a biographical account of the deceased, he has 
err 'oved of the papers thus referred to, together with others 
wfii.; .s. xiave since been put into his hands by different friends, 
whatever he has found convertible to the purpose of affording 
instruction to the Christian community, as illustrative of the 
grace and providence of God; the whole combining to furnish 
a living exposition of what has proceeded from the source of 
truth, where it is affirmed, that " God hath chosen the foolish 
things of the world to confound the wise; and God hath 
chosen the weak things of the world to confound the things 
which are mighty ; and base things of the loorld, and things 
which are despised, hath God chosen, yea and things which 
are not, to bring to nought the things that are : that no 
flesh should glory in his presence" 



X, PREFACE. 

It may be proper to mention, that some time after the death 
of Samuel Hick, the writer learned, by an application being 
made to him for materials, that another person had it in con- 
templation to prepare a Memoir ; but it was too late : he had 
gone too far to recede ; and as he c*-uld not conceive what 
virtue his MS. could derive from the simple process of passing 
through a second person's hand to the press, or what advantage 
he could reap by placing the fruit of his labour at the disposal 
of one who had neither held the plough nor scattered the seed 
into the furrows, he preferred appearing before the public in his 
own name, without allowing the imperfections of his pages to 
be charged upon others, or their merit — should they possess 
any — to be claimed by any but their legitimate owner. 

Among the persons to whom the writer has to acknowledge 
his obligations for information respecting the subject of the 
Memoir, he would not omit his friend, Mr. William Dawson of 
Barnbow, near Leeds, to whom the work is inscribed ; the 
Rev. Messrs. H. Beech, A. Learoyd, J. Hanwell, T. Harris, 
and J. Roadhouse ; togelher with Mr. Robert Watson, son-in- 
law of the deceased, and other branches of the family — the 
latter furnishing him with the use of his correspondence. 



ADVERTISEMENT 

TO THE 

SECOND ENGLISH EDITION, 



The first impression of this Memoir having been sold in 
about the space of one month after its publication, and several 
orders remaining unfulfilled, the writer has been induced to 
send forth a second. Though any attempt to conceaJ his 
pleasure in the success of the volume would appear sheer af- 
fectation, he is far from attributing the favour with which it 
has been received to the manner in which he has performed 
his task ; for, had it not been for the subject, — which may be 
considered in some respects new in biography, and as holding 
the same relation to serious reading as a novel bears to the 
graver character of historical details, — the volume might have 
shared the same fate as many superior compositions, that of 
falling dead from the press. The literary world has heard a 
good deal lately respecting the romance of history ; and they 
have here an approach to the romance of religious biography. 
Such forms of expression, the writer is aware, are liable to ob- 
jection ; but he is unable at present to find a more appropriate 
term to express his views and feelings in penning the life of 
Samuel Hick— a character so singular, and yet so eminently 
devoted to God and to the best interests of man. 

The reader will find some errors corrected in the present 
edition, which had found their way into the former; several 
new incidents and anecdotes introduced ; and a public Address 
appended, which the subject of the Memoir delivered in the 
East Riding of Yorkshire. Itis^not improbable that many of 
the facts stated in both editions may assume a new face to 



XU. ADVERTISEMENT. 

several readers — so much so, perhaps, as scarcely to be recog- 
nised by those who may be in possession of the hundredth 
oral edition ; but, to such persons as are aware how much the 
same tale will become metamorphosed in its passage through 
a score of different lips and minds, it will not be surprising 
that the writer should differ in some important particulars from 
vague report. He might state that he has received communi- 
cations from different persons, each professing to have re- 
ceived the intelligence from the lips of Samuel himself, yet 
widely different, often, both in the principle and in the detail. 
This could be accounted for from the circumstance of Samuel 
having entered into particulars in one instance, and only 
named the naked fact in another ; and also from the different 
impressions produced on the minds of the persons themselves, 
none of whom might have thought of a publicity beyond the 
domestic circle; and, in each case, the lapse of years seriously 
affecting the memory. Yet, with these inconveniences, and 
others that will naturally suggest themselves to the reader, 
every individual is certain, in the integrity of his heart, that 
his is the only correct version. This, as so many extraor- 
dinary tales have been handed round respecting the subject of 
the Memoir, is admonitory of caution; and, — as the writer h*as 
had access to the original documents, as far as penned by the 
subject himself, and from only part of which a mutilated copy 
has been obtained, — any other separately-published Life, under 
whatever pretensions, should be received with suspicion, both 
as to its details and the motives for publication. 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER I. 

His birHi— parentage— hears John Nelson— disturbance during street-preaching 
— is bound an apprentice to a blacksmith— his conduct— attends a lovefeast— 
becomes the subject of divine impressions— hears Thomas Peace— visits York 
—scenes of riot — hears Richard Burdsall— his conduct towards a persecuting 
clergyman — his heart increasingly softened— conviction— Mr. Wesley— the 
good effects of that venerable man's ministry. Page 1. 



s CHAPTER II. 

He leaves his master before the expiration of his apprenticeship— is providen- 
tially directed to a suitable situation, and commences business for himself— 
his marriage— his benevolence— death of his wife's mother — is alarmed by 
a dream — obtains mercy— suddenness of his conversion— its fruits— his zeal 
— answer to prayer, and effects of his expostulation with a landlady — sum- 
mary of the evidence of his conversion. Page 15. 



CHAPTER III. 

He seeks church fellowship— advises with a pious clergyman, with whom he 
meets in band— unites himself, on the clergyman's leaving the neighbour- 
hood, to the Wesleyan Methodists — the kind of preaching under which he 
profited— Society at Sturton Grange— revival of religion— two colliers ren- 
dered extensively useful— a solitary barn the resort of the devout— Samuel's 
distress on account of indwelling sin, and his deliverance from it — singular 
occurrence— deep distress compatible with a state of justification. Page 28, 



CHAPTER IV. 

Samuel's public character— his call to speak in public— a dream— reproves a 
clergyman— assists in prayer-meetings— visits Howden and other places— 
a remarkable out-pouring of the Spirit of God— his power in prayer— labours 
to be useful— suits his language and thoughts to the employment of persons 
addressed— a general plan laid down for the spread of religion in the villages 



XIV. CONTENTS. 

of Garforth, Barwick, &c— Samuel received as a regular local preacher— 
his person, intellect, influence, peculiarities, tenderness, language, style of 
preaching— an apology for his ministry. Page 41. 

chapter v. 

His diligence... the light in which he beheld mankind... the substance of a 
conversation held with Earl Mexborough. . .Samuel's circumscribed know- 
ledge in natural history. ..his views of the Bible. ..proofs in favour of the 
doctrine of future rewards and punishments... his visit to the seat of Earl 
Mexborough. . .a point of conscience. . .a painting. . .fidelity in reproving sin, 
at the hazard of being injured in his trade... the millenium dexterously 
hitched in, as a check to pleasure takers. ..three hunting ecclesiastics ren- 
dered the subject of merriment among the titled laity. . .ministerial fruit a 
proof of the power of truth, not of a call to preach it. . .Samuel's more 
extended labours, privations, persecutions. . -a poor widow... a conquest 
over bigotry at Ledsham. Page 62. 

CHAPTER VI. 

His qualifications for soliciting pecuniary aid. . .an unsuccessful application to a 
clergyman. . .relieves his circuit from a debt of seventy pounds. . .his anxiety 
to obtain a chapel at Aberford...a rrriser, and his manner of addressing 
him... a chapel erected.. -contests with different avaricious characters... 
a visit to Rochdale. . .administers seasonable relief to a preacher's family. . . 
his scriptural views of charity. . .supplies a poor family with coals. . .regales 
part of a company of soldiers on a forced march... an amusing domestic 
scene. . .visitation of the sick. . .gives up the use of tobacco from principle. . . 
his indisposition, and inattention to the advice of his medical attendant... 
the good effects of his state of mind upon others. . .raises a subscription for a . 
poor man. ..relieves a poor female... his love to the missionary cause... 
origin of missionary meetings among the Wesleyans. Page 80. 

CHAPTER VII. 

His patriotic feeling — high price of provisions — differs with Mr. Pawson for 
prognosticating evil — letter to the Rev. Edward Irving on prophecy — 
threatened invasion of Buonaparte — an address to the King — Samuel's 
loyalty — M. A. Taylor, Esq — the suppression of a religious assembly — 
a defence of a religious revival... -his interview with Mr. Taylor — obtains 
a licence to preach. .. .an allusion to him in a parliamentary debate. P. 104. 

CHAPTER VIII. 

His power in prayer... .divine impressions — an afflicting providence... 
remarkable answers to prayer , . . , familiar expressions in prayer to be avoid- 



CONTENTS. XV. 

cd — encounters a blacksmith — his usefulness — his meekness under per- 
secution singular method of self-defence against the aspersions of a 

clergyman Musical Festivals — perfection — seasonable remarks. . . . the 

doctrine of sanctification maintained in opposition to a clergyman — cheer- 
ful disposition — indiscretionate zeal in a meeting of the Society of Friends. 
Page 118. 

CHAPTER IX. 

His self-denial — sympathy for the poor — gratitude for mercies... .early rising 
singular band-meeting — the best way of beginning the day — his conduct 
in the families he visited .. .Bolton — RatcIifFe Close. .. .often abrupt in his 
manners — his views of proprietorship — a genuine Wesley an — an at- 
tempt to purchase him. .. .his character as the head of a family — gives up 
business — preaching excursions — visits Rigton — pTovidential supply. . . 
his public addresses — delight in his work — E. Brook, Esq — Denby dale 
.... prosperity of the work of God .... a new chapel — Samuel visits Roch- 
dale — rises superior to his exercises-., .takes a tour into different parts of 
Lancashire... .great commercial distress — liberality of P. E. Towneley, 
Esq — meeting for the relief of the poor — Samuel's return home — visits 
different parts of the York circuit- .. -revival of religion — persecution. 

Page 139. 

CHAPTER X. 

His first visit to London — dialogue at an inn on the road — Wesley an Mis- 
sionary Meeting.... preaches at Southwark ...exalts divine truth at the 
expense of human knowledge — persons benefitted by his addresses — his 
notions of nervous complaints — his second visit to the metropolis — Mrs. 
Wrathall ; her character, experience, and affliction — Samuel's general 
views and feelings, as connected with his second visit... .pleads strenuously 
for the doctrine of sanctification — is both opposed and supported in it by. 
persons of the Baptist persuasion — receives a gentle admonition from Mar- 
tha — a specimen of one of his public addresses, when in one of his most 
felicitous moods. Page 169, 

CHAPTER. XI. 

Continues in London ...an epitome of a week's labour — Mrs. Wrathali's 
religious enjoyments — Samuel meets with one converted Jew, and attempts 

the Christian improvement of another — preaches out of doors visits 

Michael Angelo Taylor, Esquire — further account of Mrs. Wrathall 

Samuel's usefulness .... his love of Yorkshire — enjoys a ride in the country 

goes into Kent — tent-preaching — is reproved for loud praying — 

his views of death — spiritualizes a thunder-storm — an African... Mrs, 
Wrathall's death — Samuel visits Windsor — is reudered a blessing to the 
people... .returns to London.... is called into Yorkshire to preach a funeral 
sermon. Page 181. 



XVI. COKTENTS. 

CHAPTER XII. 

Takes a tour through different parts of Yorkshire... low state of the work of 
God at Warter — gives the preference to vocal music in a place of worship 
— goes into the Snaith vircuit — Goole — meets with old friends — is 
affected with early recollections, on visiting the tcene of Martha's juvenile 
days — prayer-meetings — returns to Yorkshire — labours in the Easing- 
wold circuit — is again cheered with the sight of old associates — his 
increasing popularity — meets with a serious accident by a fall from his 
horse-... his conduct when under medical attendance — is visited by Mr, 

Dawson... .his partial restoration to health — visits the West Riding 

proceeds into Lancashire — is attacked by an infidel while preaching out 
of doors at Bolton — is summoned by letter to Grassington.... becomes 
seriously indisposed... .witnesses the happy death of his niece... .returns 
home... .declines rapidly in health — attends to some funeral arrangements 
....his state of mind.... his triumphant death... .the general sympathy ex- 
cited on the occasion — conclusion. Page 201. 



THE 

VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 



CHAPTER I. 



Mis birth— parentage— hears John Nelson— disturbance during street-preaching 
—is bound an apprentice to a blacksmith— his conduct— attends a lovefeast— 
becomes the subject of divine impressions— hears Thomas Peace — visits York 
—scenes of riot — hears Richard Burdsall— his conduct towards a persecuting 
clergyman— his heart increasingly softened— conviction— Mr. Wesley— the 
good effects of that venerable man's ministry. 

feAMUEL HICK, the subject of the present memoir, 
was in the moral world, what some of the precious 
stones are in the mineral kingdom, a portion of which 
lie scattered along the eastern coast of the island, and 
particularly of Yorkshire, his own county; — a man 
that might have escaped the notice of a multitude of 
watering-place visitors, like the pebbles immediately 
under their eye ; — one who, to pursue the simile, was 
likely to be picked up only by the curious, in actual 
pursuit of such specimens, and thus — though slighted 
and trodden under foot, like the encrusted gem, by per- 
sons of opposite taste, to be preserved from being for 
ever buried in the dust, as a thing of nought in the sand, 
after the opportunities of knowing his real value — when 
above the surface, had been permitted to pass unobserv- 
ed and unimproved ; — one of those characters, in short; 
that could only be discovered when sought after, or 
■farced upon the senses by his own personal appearance, 

B 



2 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

in the peculiarities by which he was distinguished — who 
was ever secure of his price when found — but who 
would, nevertheless, be placed by a virtuoso, rather 
among the more cuj^ous and singularly formed, than 
among the richer andrarer specimens in his collection. 

He was born at Aberford, September 20th, 1758, and 
was one of thirteen children, that had to be nursed and 
reared by the " hand labour " to employ an expression 
of his own, of poor, but industrious parents. Through 
the limited means of the family, his education was ne- 
cessarily very circumscribed, being chiefly confined to 
his letters, in their knowledge and formation, without 
advancing to figures : and even these — such was the 
blank of being which he experienced for several years 
afterwards — appear to have been either totally forgot- 
ten, or so imperfectly known, as to induce an inability to 
read and write, when he reached the age of manhood. 
This led him, in after life, when Sunday School instruc- 
tion dawned upon the world, as the morning of a brighter 
day, to contemplate the times with peculiar interest, and 
to wish that he had been favoured with the privileges, in 
his younger years, which he lived to promote and to see 
enjoyed by others. The dream of childhood seemed to 
pass away, with all its dangers, its " insect cares," and 
its joys, without leaving a single trace of any interest 
upon his memory, till he reached the seventh year of 
his age; and one of the first of his reminiscences, when 
sitting down at a kind of halting-post, towards the close 
of his journey, to look back on all the way which the Lord 
God had led him in the wilderness, was just such an oc- 
currence, as a mind, imbued with divine grace, might be 
supposed to advert to 3 — anxious only to fix on favoured 
spots, where God is seen in his ministers, his providence, 
and his people. 

Field and street-preaching had neither lost its novelty 
through age, nor was it rendered unnecessary by a 
multiplicity of commodious chapels : while the want of 
a suitable place, therefore, led a Wesleyan itinerant 



THE VILLAGE BLACKS3HTn. 3 

preacher to take his stand on the market cross, to pro- 
claim, as the herald of the Saviour, the glad tidings of 
salvation, the inhabitants of Aberford were allured to 
the groundj in order to listen to his message. Little 
Samuel mingled with the crowd — gazed with a degree 
of vacancy on the scone — heard, but understood not. 
John Nelson was the preacher — a man whose life was 
full of incident and interest — who discovered no less 
prowess in the cause of God, than his namesake, Nel- 
son, did upon the element for which he seemed to be 
called into existence — and who stood, for the fame he 
acquired, in a somewhat similar relation to Methodism, 
that the hero of the Nile did to the British nation. In 
the course of the service, a person prepared for the 
work by intoxication, having had three quarts of ale 
given to him by three Roman Catholics, who urged him 
to the onset, made considerable disturbance. The peo- 
ple were annoyed, and the preacher was thwarted in his 
purpose. The man exhibited in his hand a piece of 
paper, from which he either read, or pretended to read ; 
and being possessed of a powerful voice, he elevated it 
in true stentorian style, and by force of lungs rendered 
the feebler voice of the preacher inaudible. A chain of 
circumstances contributed to preserve the case alive in 
Samuel's recollection. The man was personally known 
to him — he continued to reside in the neighbourhood — 
afterwards lost his sight — was supported by begging 
from door to door — solicited alms from Samuel himself, 
when the latter had become a householder — was re- 
minded of the circumstance by him, and was either 
hypocritical or honest enough to confess his belief that 
it was a judgment from God — expressed his sorrow — 
and finished his course in a workhouse. The uses and 
improvements which Samuel made of circumstances and 
occasions even the most trivial, were invariably devo- 
tional, and often pertinent. From an occurrence like 
the present, he would, in stating it, exclaim, u Though 
hand join in hand ? the wicked shall not be unpunished ;" 



4 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH, 

then, with his usual quickness, his eyes sparkling, and 
beaming with a fine flow of grateful feeling, he would 
advert to the difference between earlier and more modern 
times, exulting in the quiet which reigned around, " every 
man" being permitted, in patriarchal simplicity, to " sit" 
and to shelter himself " under his vine and under his fig- 
tree," the hand of persecution not being raised "to make 
him afraid." 

His attention having been once drawn to the subject 
of religion, by the peculiarities of Methodism, it was 
soon re-awakened by the return of the preachers, whose 
visits, from the comparatively small number of labourers 
employed, were more like the return of the seasons, 
setting in, earlier or later, and at wider distances, than 
the regular succession of week after week, or month 
after month. This irregularity, occasioned by calls to 
new fields of usefulness, rendered their visits, like the 
return of spring, the more welcome to religious persons, 
and preserved on the face of the whole an air of novelty, 
among the profane, which frequent repetition, by pro- 
ducing familiarity, might have destroyed. Whoever 
might have been the ministers, whether in or out of the 
Established Church, that he heard ; and whatever might 
have been the impressions received, not any thing of 
personal importance is recorded, till the lapse of a 
second seven years, when 1 , at the age of fourteen, he 
was bound apprentice to Edward Derby, of Healaugh, 
near Tadcaster, to learn the trade of a Blacksmith. 
Here he appears to have been placed in a situation 
favourable, in some respects^ for religious improvement ; 
and in three sentences, the full power of which, when 
tried upon the mind of another person, he scarcely 
understood, he has struck off a sketch of his own con- 
duct while filling that situation. He states, that he had 
a "comfortable time" — that "the Lord gave" him 
"favour in the eyes of the people" — and that he "never 
troubled" his " parents for any thing during" his " ap- 
prenticeship." We have in this — in the way of impli* 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. g 

cation at least — his character as a servant, a neighbour, 
and a child ; for had he not been diligent and faithful 
as a servant, kind and obliging as a neighbour, tender 
and thoughtful as a child, there is not any thing to induce 
us to believe, that he could either have been comfortable 
in his service, participated in the favour of those around 
him, or that his parents would have been exempt from 
trouble — owing to demands made both upon their pockets 
and their patience. 

He had not been long in his situation, before curiosity 
led him to a lovefeast, which was held in a barn, at 
Healaugh. A good man of the same trade with himself 
was the door-keeper ; and either through a kindly feeling 
on that account, or from his having perceived something 
in Samuel's general demeanour, which excited his hope, 
he permitted him to pass, and ordered him to mount the 
straw, which was piled up in a part of the building, in 
order to make room for the people. It was not long 
before the door-keeper left his post, and advancing 
towards the body of the congregation, commenced the 
service. He remarked, in figurative language, when 
describing the influence of the Spirit of God upon his 
heart, that " the fire was burning," and that he " felt 
it begin at the door." So gross were the conceptions 
of Samuel, so ignorant was he of the ordinary phraseo- 
logy of Christians, that, like Nicodemus on another 
subject, he took the term fire in its literal acceptation, 
and in an instant his fears were roused, his imagination 
was at work, and his eye was directed to the door. He 
deemed his situation among the straw, as one of the most 
hazardous, and in his imaginings, saw himself enveloped 
in flame. He continued to fix an anxious eye upon the 
entrance, but on perceiving, as he expressed himself, 
neither " smoke nor fire," his fears ware gradually al- 
layed, and ho again lent an attentive ewr to the worthy 
man, who had borrowed his simile, in all probability, 
from the descent of the Holy Ghost in " cloven tongues, 
like as of fire," and whose feelings seemed to accord 

b 2 



6 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

with those which stirred in the bosom of the Psalmist, 
when he said, " My heart was hot within me : while I 
was musing the fire burned : then spake I with my 
tongue." There were two particulars which impressed 
the mind of Samuel, and which he afterwards pondered 
in his heart ; the one was the high value which the 
speaker stamped upon his office, and upon the place, 
dignifying the old barn with the title of a place of wor- 
ship, and affirming that he " had rather be a door-keeper 
in the house of God, than to dwell in the tents of wick- 
edness ;" and the other was his declaration of a know- 
ledge of the fact, that his sins were forgiven. Samuel 
could not conceive how the temporary appropriation of 
such a place to divine worship, &c, could constitute it 
" the house of God," or what honour or pleasure a man 
could derive from the apparently humiliating circum- 
stance of keeping watch over a door that many would 
be ashamed to enter. But the knowledge of forgiveness 
puzzled him most, and in this he seemed to have a per- 
sonal concern. His spirit clung to the fact, and he could 
not help wishing that the case were his own — that he 
knew it for himself; this plainly implying a knowledge 
of sin, though probably he was not painfully oppressed 
with its load. He took occasion the next day to ask his 
master, how the man could know that his sins were par- 
doned, and to express what he himself felt on the sub- 
ject, — a circumstance which would lead to the conclu- 
sion, that his master possessed something more than the 
mere semblance of Christianity, though not sufficient to 
lead him to establish the practice of family prayer. 

Whatever was the knowledge which the master im- 
parted, Samuel's feelings and enquiries are evident indi- 
cations, that he was visited with " drawings from above ;" 
and these wereibstered soon after by a local preacher 
from York, of tne name of Thomas Peace, who, while 
preaching on the " remission of sins," and insisting on 
a knowledge of it, confirmed by Scripture all that had 
been heard from the lips of experience in the barn, 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH, 7 

While the preacher wept, and expostulated with the 
people, Samuel looked, and listened, and also wept : bus 
with him they were tears of sympathy ; for in his boyish 
simplicity, he concluded that the man must have just 
come from the grave of his wife; and with equal sim* 
plicity, on his return home, he enquired of his master, 
who had become his oracle, whether it was not on ac- 
count of the death of his wife, that the preacher had 
been weeping. His master told him — and this is an 
additional proof of the light which he possessed— that 
the tenderness manifested, was occasioned by the love 
of God which was shed abroad in his heart, inspiring 
him with love to his fellow-creatures. This was too 
high for Samuel's comprehension, but not beyond the 
feelings of his heart. He loved the man while hearing 
him preach, but loved him more now, ardently desired 
his return, and embraced every opportunity of attending 
his preaching. His heart was gradually softening — the 
great subject of religion was constantly revolving in his 
mind, like an orb of light, yet he was unable to fasten 
his thoughts down to the contemplation of its particular 
parts, with the exception of the doctrine of pardon — 
and withal, he had not power over moral evil. 

In 1776, when he had attained his eighteenth year, it 
being customary for the young people of the neighbour- 
ing towns and villages, to visit the city of York, on Whit- 
Monday, in order to witness scenes of folly and dissipa- 
tion, especially wrestling-matches and fights, the victors 
having prizes conferred upon them, he joined his com- 
panions, repaired to the spot, and became a spectator. 
But being naturally humane, and not having undergone 
any course of brutal discipline, to render callous the 
better and more tender feelings of his heart, he was not 
able to enter into the spirit of such gladiatorial scenes- 
scenes more worthy of Greece and of Rome in their 
pagan state, than of Christian Britain. This was not 
his element ; it was to him a scene of <c misery and 
cruelty, " as he afterwards stated ; and averting his eyes 



8 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

from the objects, he was suddenly attracted by another 
crowd of people, occupying another part of the same 
public ground, encircling a person who was elevated for 
the occasion, and seemed by his attitude to be harangu- 
ing his hearers. Samuel left his associates, and before 
the maddened yells and shouts of profanity had died 
upon his ear, and for which that ear had not been tuned, 
he was saluted with a hymn ; — the two extremes fur- 
nishing an epitome of heaven and hell — the one seen 
from the other, as the rich man beheld Lazarus,— only 
with this important difference, among others, — no im- 
passible "gulph"was " fixed" between; " so that they 
which would pass from" one to the other, might avail 
themselves of the privilege. This was a moment of 
deep interest ; and on this single act, through the Divine 
Being's putting special honour upon it, might hinge, in 
a great measure, the bearings of his future life. He 
was partial to singing, and as the hymn was sung in dif- 
ferent parts, he was the more delighted. The conspicu- 
ous figure in the centre, was the late Richard Burdsall, 
of York, father of the Rev. John Burdsall, who had, with 
his usual daring, entered the field against the enemy, 
and was mounted on what Samuel designated a " block" 
for the purpose of giving him a greater advantage qver 
his auditory, while animadverting on the profligacy of 
the times.* Mr. Burdsall was remarkably popular in 
his day, and was just such a character, as a preacher, 
as Samuel, from the peculiar construction of his own 
mind, was likely to fix upon, — one who would, on com- 
paring the one with the other, have stood at the head of 

* The Wesleyan Methodists have always been distinguished 
for their zealous attempts to reclaim the worst part of human 
nature first : for this purpose they have resorted to markets, 
feasts, and fairs ; and in looking at the situation of some of their 
oldest chapels — Whitby, and other places — it will be found, that 
they frequently pitched their tents in the most Sodomitish parts 
of a town, with a view to improve the more depraved as well a* 
the lower grades of society. 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 9 

the same class at school, in which Samuel would have 
been placed at the foot ; both being Jit for the class, as 
well as of it, — only the one having attained to greater 
proficiency than the other, in a somewhat similar line.* 

Samuel's attention was soon gained, and his affection 
won, whicn, to Mr. Burdsall, was of no small import- 
ance ; for as he was proceeding with the service, a cler- 
gyman advanced towards him, declaring, that " he should 
not preach there, — not if he were the Lord Mayor him- 
self," threatening to " pull him down from the block. 53 
Just as he was preparing to carry his designs into exe^ 
cution, Samuel, whose love to the preacher was such^ 
that he felt, as he observed, as if he " could loose the 
last drop of" his " blood" in his defence, stepped up to 
the clergyman, clenched his hands, and holding them in 
a menacing form to his face, accosted him in the abrupt 
and measured terms of the ring upon which he had but 
a few minutes before been gazing, — " Sir, if you disturb 
that man of God, I will drop you as sure as ever you 
were born." There was too much emphasis in the ex- 
pression, and too much fire in the eye, to admit a doubt 
that he was in earnest. The reverend gentleman felt 
the force of it — his countenance changed — the storm 
which was up in Samuel had allayed the tempest in him 
— and he looked with no small concern for an opening 
in the crowd, by which he might make his escape. 
Samuel, though unchanged by divine grace, had too 
much nobleness of soul in him, to trample upon an oppo- 
nent, who was thus in a state of humiliation before him ; 
and therefore generously took him under his protection 
— made a* passage for him through the audience — and 
conducted him to the outskirts without molestation, when 
he quickly disappeared. The manner in which this was 
done, the despatch employed, and the sudden calm after 

* Quaintness, wit, and imagination, were rarely absent in Mr, 
B. Speaking to the writer once, in the city of York, on his early 
call to the ministry, he said, ** I seem to have been something 
like a partridge : I ran away with the shell on my head." 



10 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

the commotion, must have produced a kind of dramatic 
effect on the minds of religious persons, who, neverthe- 
less, in the midst of their surprise, gratitude, and even 
harmless mirth at the precipitate flight of their disturber, 
who w r as converted in an instant by a mere stripling from 
the lion to the timid hare, would be no more disposed to 
justify the clenched fist — the earth helping the woman in 
this way — than they could be brought to approve of the 
zeal of Peter, when, by a single stroke, he cut off the 
right ear of the high priest's servant. Samuel instantly 
resumed the attitude of an attentive hearer, without any 
apparent emotions from what had just transpired. In 
the launching forth of his hand, he gave as little warn- 
ing as the bolt of heaven ; the flash of his eye was like 
the lightning's glare — a sudden burst of passion, wither- 
ing for the moment — seen — and gone. 

The following good effects resulted from this sermon 
— a high respect for the preacher, and a stronger attach- 
ment to the Methodists, as a people ; both having a ten- 
dency to lead him to the use of the means, by which the 
Divine Being conveys grace to the hearts of his crea- 
tures. He remarked, that after this period, in following 
Mr. Burdsall from place to place, he travelled " many 
scores of .miles," and that he " never heard" him with- 
out being " blessed" under his preaching. His feelings 
were in unison with those which dictated Ruth's address 
to Naomi, " Whither thou goest, I will go — thy people 
shall be my people, and thy God my God;" and as far 
as circumstances would admit, and he had light to dis- 
cover the truth, he laboured to give vent to the over- 
flowings of his heart. His case was one which would 
lead to the conclusion, that his religion commenced in 
Iieat rather than light, that he continued for some time, 
eren beyond this period, more the subject of impression 
than of instruction — felt, in short, what he was unable 
to express to others, and for which he could not account 
to himself. He had been touched by the wand of Moses 
at Horeb, which had unlocked some of the secret springs 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 11 

of his heart, and put them in motion, rather than been 
in the tabernacle with Aaron the priest, illuminated and 
perfected by the Urim and the Thummim. His heart 
was much more assailable than his head, and, as will 
afterwards appear, was much more at work through life, 
and had a more commanding influence over his conduct. 
Divine light was admitted but slowly, not so much 
through any violent opposition to k, or any process of 
reasoning carried on in his mind against any of the par- 
ticular doctrines of the gospel, as through a want of 
power to arrange and classify his thoughts — to connect 
one subject with another — to trace effects to their causes ; 
a want of the means of information, as well as a relish 
for reading, had the means been at hand — a certain 
quickness in catching particular points, which led him 
to think as some Hibernians are led to speak — and a 
peculiarly animated temperament,. which disposed him 
to warm himself at the fire of the Christian altar, rather 
than silently gaze upon a cloudless sky — the splendid 
canopy of the great temple of the universe. He seemed, 
in fact, to Ifeirry the more fiery part of his trade into his 
religion, as he subsequently carried every part of his 
religion into his trade. Full of the best and warmest 
feeling for the religion of Christ and its professors, and 
using the means in order to attain it, he was now in a 
hopeful way, not only of verging towards it, but of enter* 
ing into its genuine spirit. 

To these kindlings, yieldings, and advances, was at 
length added conviction, though not the most poignant. 
The clouds which overhung his mind, began to break 
away. This was effected by the ministry of the Rev. 
John Wesley. The chronology of this event is placed 
by Samuel's widow in the fifteenth j^ear of his age ; but 
by himself, after the period of his having heard Mr. 
Burdsall : and although the memory of the former is 
generally more to be depended upon than that of the 
latter, yet, in this case, Samuel was probably the more 
correct of the two. It was in the old chapel at Leeds 



12 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

where he heard the founder of Methodism ; and ho 
scarcely appears to have been sufficiently impressed 
with the importance of personal salvation, during the 
first year of his apprenticeship, to lead him so many 
miles from home to hear a sermon ; nor does he refer 
to any thing that seems to amount to conviction prior 
to his York excursion. Still, the date is of minor 
importance, provided the fact be secured ; and the 
principal point to be attended to is — that of tracing the 
progressive steps by which he was led to the knowledge 
of himself and of God, and to the enjoyment of "pure 
and undefiled religion." On entering the chapel, he 
was awed and delighted with Mr. Wesley's appearance, 
who, according to his conceptions of angelic beings, 
seemed at first sight to be " something more than man" 
— even "an angel" of God. This prepossession in 
favour of the preacher, naturally prepared the way for 
a speedy reception of the truths delivered. There was 
one subject, however — and all in favour of the preacher 
■ — which Samuel was at a loss to comprehend. Mr. 
Wesley's prophetic soul was led out in some** part of the 
discourse, to connect with the revival of religion which 
was going on, more glorious times ; intimating that when 
his dust should mingle with the clods of the valley, min* 
asters more eminently successful than either himself, or 
others by whom he was surrounded, would be raised to 
perpetuate and extend the work. Not distinguishing 
between ministerial talent and ministerial usefulness, 
Samuel thought Mr. Wesley intimated that greater 
preachers than himself would supply his place ; thus 
giving Mr. Wesley the credit of indirectly associating 
himself with the great — though greater were to tread in 
his steps. Samuel, according to his own exposition of 
Mr. Wesley's words, could not conceive it within the 
range of possibility for any one to equal, much more to 
surpass him ; for, to use his own language, " he preached 
dike an angel." The text was, "Shew me thy faith 
without thy works, and I will shew thee my faith by my 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 13 

Works."* In addition to Mr. Wesley's appearance, and 
his exalted character as a preacher, we discover part 
of the secret of Samuel's estimate of him, in himself, 
It might now be said of him, as of Saul of Tarsus, "And 
immediately there fell from his eyes as it had been 
scales ;" — his mental vision was rendered more acute, 
as well as enlarged, On hearing Mr. Wesley, he 
emphatically " received his sight," and that too in the 
most important sense ; — he had listened to one, of whom 
he might have said — not indeed as the woman of Sam- 
aria, " Come see a man that has told me all things that 
ever I did," but " Come see a man that has told me all 
things of which I am destitute." Though he could 
not give any correct account of the manner in which 
the subject was treated, there was one conclusion which 
he was enabled to draw from the whole, and which 
penetrated too deeply for him ever to forget — that he 
possessed neither faith nor works which God could either 
approve or accept. 

In no previous instance had the hand of God been so 
visible as in this ; and the state* of the subject of the 
memoir, may be illustrated by that of one of two persons, 
shut up in a dark room, where the other having seen it 
by day-light, expatiates to his fellow an hour or two on 
its height, length, width, and form, the nakedness and 
eolour of the walls, with all its other peculiarities. From 
the description given, aided by his blind attempts to feel 
his way into every corner, and lay his hand upon every 
thing within his reach, the hearer may be able to form 
some conception of the apartment and situation in which 
he stands. But it is easy to conceive, that a third person 
opening the door, and entering the room with a lighted 
taper in his hand, would throw more light upon the sub- 
ject in one single moment, than a person of the highest 
descriptive powers, through description alone, could do 
in twelve hours. This, though not a perfect illustration, 
is sufficient for the present purpose : Samuel had heard 
* James ii. 18. 

c 



14 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

preaching repeatedly ; a description of the moral condi- 
tion of man, of the new creature in Christ Jesus, of the 
awful and glorious realities of an invisible world, of every 
thing, in short, connected with man as a subject of the 
moral government of God, had been given in the dis- 
courses which he had heard ; but through his own su- 
pineness — his not asking for divine aid, or, if he asked, 
his asking amiss, he remained in the " darkness" of 
ignorance, error, and unbelief, without " light" to guide 
him either in his conceptions, his decisions, or his walk. 
He, however, who commanded light to shine out of dark- 
ness, .commanded it here to shine into darkness ; a pure 
ray was shot from the Sun of Righteousness, illuminat. 
ing all within. Samuel found the " house" empty of all 
good — not swept of evil, nor garnished with holiness. It 
was light which produced a conviction, not so much of 
the presence of evil, as of the absence of good. He saw 
that he was "poor" and "naked" and had till now been 
" blind ;" but the negative character of his conviction 
did not constitute him "wretched" because of sin, or 
" miserable" because «>f the enormity of that sin. The 
flaming sword was permitted to turn only in one direc- 
tion ; other operations were apparently restrained, when 
the present had its full effect, and the subject was more 
fully prepared for their exercise. The Holy Spirit had 
been already in operation, softening and gently impress- 
ing the heart — all preparatory to a further work of grace. 
There was fire, as has been previously stated ; but it 
was fire without flame — fire smouldering under ashes, 
and consequently incapable of emitting the beneficial 
light. It was now that the shades of night, in which he 
had been so long enveloped, seemed to say, as the angel 
said to Jacob, " Let us go, for the day breaketh." 



WIE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH, 15 



CHAPTER II. 

He leaves his master before the expiration of his apprenticeship— is providen- 
tially directed to a suitable situation, and commences business for himself— 
his marriage — his benevolence — death of his wife's mother — is alarmed by 
a dream — obtains mercy— suddenness of his conversion— its fruits— his zeal 
—answer to prayer, and effects of his expostulation with a landlady— sum- 
mary of the evidence of his conversion. 

It has been quaintly, but significantly observed, in refer- 
ence to the providential lot of human beings, that " Every 
peg has its hole." Whatever may have been the pri- 
mary design of the remark, it is certainly applicable to 
the notions of personal comfort and probable usefulness ; 
— the former effected by the adaptation of the pin to the 
place and of the place to the pin, and the latter by its 
projection — going beyond itself, so to speak — affording 
an opportunity both to friends and strangers, of suspend, 
ing upon its form whatever they may desire, whether 
from inclination or necessity. And the man who permits 
his Maker to "choose" his "inheritance" for him, will 
rarely be placed in a situation in which it will be impos- 
sible for some of his fellow. creatures to hang upon him 
their hopes, their weaknesses, and their wants. This 
will apply with equal propriety to persons in humble 
life, as to persons in the more elevated ranks of society. 
We are taught the doctrine of a wise and bountiful Pro- 
vidence in the fall of a " sparrow," and in the adornings 
of " the lilies," — of a Providence which is both permis- 
sive and active in its operations — directing in the outset, 
and entering into the minutest circumstances of human 
life. General observation would almost warrant the 
belief, that there is a starting-point for every man, later 
or earlier in life, subject to his own choice : and in pro^ 
portion as he proceeds along the line, or deviates from 



16 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH*. 

it, will be the amount of his success or adversity — coo. 
necting with the situation, in the person that bolds it? 
industry, economy, and integrity. The principal diffi- 
culty is in the choice. Religiously to determine this ? 
we ought never to lose sight of the circumstances of 
the case, personal competency, and general usefulness. 
Several of these remarks will apply to the subject of 
this memoir. 

Though Samuel had acted in the capacity of a faith- 
ful servant to his master for some years, a circumstance 
took place which led to a separation before the expira- 
tion of his apprenticeship. His master's daughter had 
conceived an attachment to him, which was returned* 
though not to the same extent, by Samuel. This na- 
turally led to certain domestic attentions, in which the 
young woman contributed to his comforts ; and having 
a little money at command, she occasionally assisted 
him, with a view to give strength lo the bond which 
subsisted. His master coming down stairs one mornings 
a little earlier than usual, found him seated with Miss 
Derby on his knee. He instantly returned, and told his 
wife, whom he had left in bed ; and after opening the 
circumstance, said, " I believe she is as fond of the lad 
as ever a cow was of a calf." On again descending the 
stairs, he chided them both, and signified his disappro* 
bation of all attachment. The day passed on, with evi- 
dent indications that the master was brooding on the 
subject ; and at length he ordered Samuel, with a good 
deal of angry feeling, to leave his house and his service* 
The dismissal having been given at an evening hour, 
Samuel requested permission to remain till the next day, 
which was granted. To prevent any matrimonial con- 
nection from taking place between them, the father, on 
Samuel's removal, contrived to form an union between 
his daughter and a person of some property, but much 
her senior, offering as an inducement, a handsome dow^ 
ry. Miss D. wrote to Samuel the day previous to her 
marriage, requesting him to meet her at a specified lira® 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH, IT 

and place, pledging herself to him for ever, as the sole 
object of her first affection. Poor Samuel was placed 
in circumstances at the time from which it was impossi- 
ble to escape ; and the fitful moment glided away from 
both, without improvement^ to their inexpressible grief. 
As this was a compulsory measure, the bride gave her 
hand without her heart; her spirits shortly afterwards 
became depressed, and confirmed insanity ensued. Sam- 
uel was sent for by her friends — he obeyed the summons 
— the sight of him increased her malady, and added to 
the poignancy of his own feelings — he hastily withdrew — 
and she died soon after. As an affair of honour, it may 
be said, "in all this" Samuel "sinned not."* Aban- 
doned, however, as he was, by his master, the Lord 
directed him by his providence. 

Without giving the West Yorkshire dialect, which he 
wrote as well as spoke, and which it would be as difficult 
for persons in the southern counties of England to read 
and to understand, without a glossary, as the "Lanca- 
shire Dialect," the substance of his relation, when " en- 
tering upon the world" — to employ a familiar phrase — 
is clear, simple, and touching. " When I was one and 
twenty years of age," he states, "there was a shop at 
liberty, at Mickleiield, and my father took it for me. I 
here began business for myself; and when I had paid 
for my tools, I was left without a penny in my pocket, or 
a bit of bread to eat. But I was strong, in good health, 
and laboured hard ; and that God who sent the ravens 
to feed his servant, {ed me. One day, while at work, a 
man came into my shop, who told me, that his wife had 
fed the pig so fat, as to render it useless to the family, 
and that he would sell me the one half of it very cheap. 

* Old Mrs. Derby, who survived Samuel, and was living at 
Healaugh, in 1631, in the 90th year of her age, was very partial 
to him, always styling him 4i Our Sam;' 1 and Mr. D., on seeing 
his daughter's distress, was heard to say, " O that 1 had let Sammy 
have my lass!" Samuel paid occasional visits to his old Mrs, to 
the end of his days, 

3 2 



18 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

I told him that I wished it were in my power to make 
the purchase — that I was much in need — but that I was 
without money. He replied, he would trust me ; and I 
agreed to take it. I mentioned the circumstance to a 
neighbour, who offered to lend me five pounds, which I 
accepted : and out of this I paid the man for what I had 
bought. I continued to labour hard, and the Lord, in 
his abundant goodness, supplied all my wants." From 
this it would seem, that he had not been anxiously look- 
ing in every direction for a situation, and that, on finding 
every providential door shut, had sat down to quarrel 
with the dispensations of God, or made some hazardous 
attempts to force an opening : nor was the situation at 
first either perceived by himself, or the door — to proceed 
with the allusion — but slightly turned upon its hinges, 
leaving the possibility or propriety of entrance still pro- 
blematical. It was thrown open by the hand that regu- 
lates all human affairs — circumstances invited the father 
to the spot — he took his survey — Samuel having been 
released from his connexion with his master, found the 
occurrence seasonable — poverty was his portion, but no 
capital was requisite for the purchase of stock — previous 
industry and economy prepared him to meet the expense 
of tools- -his father led him up to the door which his 
Maker had opened — labour was instantly furnished, and 
the " daily bread" for which he was commanded to pray 
was supplied — the confidence and kindness of friends 
encouraged him to proceed — and there he continued, 
succeeded, and was afterwards useful. Providence ap- 
peared to^neet him at every turn, and, as in a piece of 
wedge-work, adapted its movements to all the peculiari- 
ties of his case. 

After having been established in business for the space 
of eighteen months, without apparently elevating his 
mind above the drudgery of the day, he meditated a 
change in his domestic circumstances. " The Lord," 
he observes, "saw that I wanted a help-meet" — he 
knew the character that " would suit me best" — and was 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 19 

so " kind'* as to furnish me with " one of his own choos* 
ing." From the form of expression employed, it should 
seem that there was an allusion to his first attachment, 
which he might be led to consider as not of God, from 
the circumstance of his having been thwarted in his pur- 
pose. His courtship, in its commencement and termi- 
nation, preserves the singularity which distinguished 
most of the leading transactions of his life. His partial- 
ity to singing led him to unite himself to the choir that 
attended Aberford Church, which union continued for 
the space of ten years. Here he became acquainted 
with her who was destined to be his bride, and to survive 
him as his widow. The first time he saw her, which 
was during divine service, it was powerfully impressed 
upon his mind, that she would one day become his wife. 
Under such impression, and in great simplicity, he walk- 
ed up to her immediately on leaving the church, and 
unbosomed his feelings and thoughts on the subject. 
She heard his first lispings with surprise, and felt their 
force ; for from that period they delighted in each other's 
society, and were finally united in holy matrimony in 
Spofford church. She was six years older than himself, 
On leaving the hymenial altar, and reaching the church 
door, a number of poor widows pressed around him to 
solicit alms. His heart was touched ; the tear was in 
his eye ; " I began the world," said he to himself, " with- 
out money, and I will again begin it straight" The 
thought was no sooner conceived, and the generous im- 
pulse felt, than the hand, which emptied the pocket, 
scattered the last pence of which he was possessed 
among the craving applicants. The bride being entitled 
to some property, and work pouring in upon him, his 
exhausted stores were soon recruited : and believing 
that a blessing followed the donation, he appended to a 
narrative of the event, in a tone of triumph, " the Lord 
gave me a good wife, and I have never wanted money 
since that day." 



20 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

The fine glow of devotional feeling occasionally ex- 
perienced in his youth, had for some time become ex- 
tinct ; and he had not, in his present situation, been 
brought into contact with any decidedly religious cha- 
racter to revive it, except the mother of his wife, who 
was a member of the Wesleyan Connexion. He com- 
plained, that at this period his wife and himself were 
"both strangers to saving grace" — that "the parish" 
could not boast of a single Methodist — and that there 
was not " one" of his " own family that knew the Lord." 
His mother-in-law, who, it would seem, did not reside in 
the same parish with himself, often spoke to him on the 
subject of religion, and interceded with God both for 
him and his partner. Example, exhortation, and prayer, 
were ineffectual. The appeal was to be made to the 
passions ; and through these was the entrance to be 
made, which would effect his deliverance from the thral- 
dom of Satan. His mother-in-law sickened and died. 
The happiness she experienced in her last hours, sof- 
tened the heart and re-awakened the attention of Samuel 
to the concerns of his soul. This, however, but for what 
he denominated a "vision," had been "as the early dew 
that passeth away." 

Three days after her dissolution, he dreamed that she 
appeared to him arrayed in white, took him by the hand, 
and affectionately warned him to flee from the wrath to 
come ; stating, that if he did not repent he would never 
meet her in the paradise of God. At the close of the 
address, the visionary form vanished ; conviction, while 
he slumbered, seized his spirit ; he awoke in terror, and 
to use his own language, "jumped out of bed" — thus 
furnishing another exposition of the language of the 
" man in the land of Uz" — " When I say, JVIy bed shall 
comfort me, my couch shall ease my complaint ; then 
thou scarest me with dreams, and terrifiest me through 
visions." This sudden spring from the bed roused his 
wise : his groans and distress alarmed her ; and supposing 
him to have been suddenly seized with some complaint 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 21 

that threatened his life, she was proceeding to awaken 
the neighbours, and to call them to her assistance, when 
she was arrested in her course, in the midst of the dark- 
ness with which she was surrounded, with a sentence 
wrung from the depths of his agonized spirit, and uttered 
in sobs, " I want Jesus — Jesus, to pardon all my sins." 
It was sufficient for her to know that he was not in im > 
mediate danger from affliction ; her fears were therefore 
quickly dissipated, but she could afford him no consola- 
tion. This he seemed to feel, and observed, "I had no 
Paul to say to me, ' Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, 
and thou shalt be saved ;' nor any praying wife to pray 
for me." It was the midnight of desolation ; and the 
only light by which the way of mercy could be discov- 
ered, was from within. The flood of day which was 
poured upon his mind, was as strong as it was sudden ; 
and differing in degree from that with which he was 
visited under the ministry of Mr. Wesley, he now beheld 
both sides of his case — not only the absence of all good, 
but the presence of real evil. " My eyes," said he, 
" were opened — I saw all the sins I had committed 
through the whole course of my life — I was like the 
psalmist — I cried out like the gaoler." He added with 
considerable emphasis, "I did say my prayers," con- 
tinuing, "as I never did before ;" meaning that he had 
only said them previously to this period. He further 
observed, that it might have been said of him, as of 
Saul, "Behold, he prayed." 

The ministerial instruction which he had at different 
periods received, led him, in the midst of much igno- 
rance on other subjects, to adopt the proper means, and 
to look to the true source of happiness, in order to its 
attainment. He had heard of one Jesus of Nazareth ? 
like Saul ; and though that Jesus had not before been 
experimentally revealed to him, yet such was the nature 
of the light which he received, that it enabled him to 
recognize in him from whom it proceeded, the face of a 
Saviour and a Friend. The Sun of Righteousness, tike 



22 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

/ 

the orb of day, discovers himself by his own shining. 
It is in his light that we see light. Samuel was in the 
light, in the midst of natural darkness; and though he 
could not not hear the prayers of a wife, he had confi- 
dence in the intercession of a Saviour. " Jesus," said 
he, " was my advocate ; I put in my case, and he plead- 
ed for me before the throne of God. I believed that 
the blood of Christ was shed for me ; and the moment I 
believed, I found peace. I could adopt the language of 
the poet, — 

•' * My God is reconciled, 

His pardoning yoice 1 hear - 
He owns me for his child, 

I can no longer fear ; 
With confidence I now draw nigh, 
And Father, Abba, Father, ery. r " 

His state, as an inhabitant of the natural world, af- 
forded a fair exemplification of the change through which 
he passed. He reposed himself in darkness — lay in that 
darkness, like the dead in the tomb — and was passing 
through this insensible state, to the light of another day. 
On the same evening, as a sinner before his God, he lay 
down in the darkness of a deeper night than that which 
veils the face of nature — was the subject of a more ter- 
rible death than that of which sleep is but the image — 
awoke in spiritual light — and was, ere the natural light 
broke upon his eye, enabled to exult in the dawn of a 
fairer morning than ever beamed upon our earth — a 
morning which can only be surpassed by tne morning 
of the resurrection, when the just shall kindle into life 
at the sight of the Sun of Righteousness, to which this, 
through the vivifying rays of the same Sun, formed the 
happy prelude. Spiritual life succeeded spiritual light. 
To object to the genuineness of the work, because of its 
suddenness , would be to plead a " needs be" for our con- 
tinuance in a state of comparative darkness, danger, 
misery, and death, in opposition to the end proposed by 
the scheme of human redemption, through Jesus Christ, 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 23 

which was to complete our deliverance from such a 
state — would be to prescribe limits to the power, good- 
ness, and purity of " the Holy One of Israel," as though 
he were unable to effect such a change, but by degrees, 
unwilling at once to soothe our sorrows, and approving 
of our continuance in a state of moral defilement- 
would be to doubt the veracity of the Holy Ghost, in his 
statements of the sudden illumination of Saul, the sud- 
den conviction of the multitude under the preaching of 
Peter, and the instantaneous pardon of the penitent thief 
— and would, finally, be to obstruct the course of our 
obedience, in compliance with all the exhortations which 
urge us, and all the injunctions which bind us to an im- 
mediate preparation for another state of being, as well 
as needlessly expose us, through sudden death, to the 
"bitter pains" of death eternal. 

But the doctrine of sudden conversion is becoming 
every day less objectionable ; and the " holy ground" 
on which that conversion takes place, is not barely visit- 
ed by the hymning seraphs of the Christian church, who 
chaunt their songs within the sacred inclosure, but is 
respected and honoured by some of our first epic poets 
from without, through whose pen the ground has at length 
become poetically classical.* Thus, in "The Poet's 
Pilgrimage to Waterloo," the author, in his moments 
of vision, after tasting the tree of knowledge, sings : 

"In awe I heard, and trembled, and obeyed; 

The bitterness was even as of death ; 
1 felt a cold and piercing thrill pervade 

My loosened limbs, and losing sight and breath, 
To earth I should have fallen in my despair, 
Had I not clasped the cross, and been supported there, 

"My heart, I thought, was bursting with the force 

Of that most fatal fruit; soul-sick I felt, 
And tears ran down in such continuous course, 

As if the very eyes themselves should melt. 

* See the writer's Letter to Dr. Southey, Poet Laureate, on 
Life- of Mr. Wesley. 



24 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH, 

But then I heard my heavenly Teacher say, 
Drink, and this mortal stound shall pass away. 

11 1 stooped and drank of that divinest Well, 
Fresh from the Rock of Ages where it ran. 

It had a heavenly quality to quell 
My pain : — I rose a renovated man, 

And would not now, when that relief was known, 

For worlds the needful suffering haVe foregone." 

These sentiments, though highly poetical, take their 
root in fact, and owe their beauty and their excellency 
to truth, of which they are the fictitious representatives. 
The deep distress, the heart -sickness referred to, would, 
by a simple-hearted Christian, be styled deep conviction 
for sin, or the pains of repentance antecedent to pardon ; 
by a philosopher, a species of religious madness. The 
passing away of the " mortal stound" would be contem-, 
plated under the notion of peace of mind, after the peni- 
tent had, by faith, " clasped the cross" or rather the 
Crucified. The brief space of time allotted for the 
whole would, at once, entitle the work to the general 
appellation of sudden conversion : for the poet had only 
to stoop — to drink — to rise, and to rise too a renovated 
man. This bears such a striking analogy to the case of 
the sin. sick Village Blacksmith, whose personal history 
is passing in review — who knelt in distress before his 
God — implored mercy — and rose renewed and happy — 
that the poet, had he known the fact, could scarcely 
have been more felicitous in its illustration. 

So fully satisfied was Samuel himself of the genuine- 
ness of the work, that he frequently, in after life, when 
dwelling upon his religious views and feelings, recurred 
to the very " flag" on which he knelt, and where he 
remained as he had risen from his couch, unannoyed by 
the cold, till he experienced peace with God. No 
sooner was he put in possession of the " pearl of great 
price," than he waited with the anxiety of the watch- 
man for the morning, to be delivered from a situation 
which had become burdensome through over-wrought 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 25 

joy,, — a joy which could only find relief in the hearts of 
others, — hearts ready, as the recipients of its overflow. 
trigs, to share in its fulness. But where were hearts to 
be found, to become the receptacles of such joy ? It 
was not for him to say, with the psalmist, " Come and 
hear, all ye that fear God, and I will declare what he 
hath done for my soul ;" or, " I will declare thy name 
unto my brethren : in the midst of the congregation I 
will praise thee." Though congregations were not re- 
mote, yet there were no brethren with whom he could 
claim religious affinity — none that feared God, with 
whom he was acquainted. He resolved, therefore, to 
proclaim the goodness of God to his " neighbours ;" 
and like Melancthon, to whom truth appeared at first so 
simple, and yet so forcible, that he instantly calculated 
on the conquest of others, but had soon to complain that 
old Adam was too strong for young Melancthon, Samuel 
— and the thought has haunted many besides these, 
both learned and illiterate — contemplated nothing short 
of the sudden conversion of every person in the neigh= 
bourhood. " I thought," he remarked, " I could make 
all the world believe, when day-light appeared. I went 
to my neighbours, for I loved my neighbour as myself, 
I wished them all to experience what I felt. The first 
that I went to, w r as a landlady. I told her what the Lord 
had done for me ; and that what he had done for me he 
could do for her — exhorting her to pray and belie ve." 
This was no new language to the ear into which it was 
poured, for the woman seemed to know to what source 
it was traceable. "What!" she retorted, "have you 
become a Methodist ? You were a good neighbour, and 
a good man before ; and why change ? The Methodists 
are a set of rogues, and you will soon be like them." 
Samuel, who was at least guiltless of Methodism, had 
too important a subject in hand to spend his time in dis^ 
claiming his brotherhood, and therefore continued to 
press upon her attention the necessity of personal reli- 
gion, telling her if her " sins" were " not pardoned/' it 



36 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

would be impossible for her to go " to Heaven." Un- 
prepared for such service, partly from the early hour, 
partly from the personal nature of the discourse, but 
more especially from the character of the preacher — 
who, only the day before, had given so little promise of 
any thing of the kind — she became indignant, and in her 
ire turned him out of the house, in which he might have 
remained till evening, reducing himself, by intoxication, 
beneath a level with the brute creation. Fiery as was 
liis zeal for her salvation, he received the requital of his 
good intentions with meekness ; and instead of repining 
at the rebuff, retired to a field, and poured out his soul 
in prayer to God on her behalf. He had just been fa- 
voured with a proof of the efficacy of prayer in his own 
case ; and the simple thought, that " what God had 
done for himself he could do for others," so fully occu- 
pied his mind, that, in its strength and simplicity, he was 
led on from one part of prayer to another — from confes- 
sion, supplication, and thanksgiving, in reference to him- 
self, to that of intercession for those around. The fire 
of divine love burnt upon the altar of his heart — faith was 
in exercise — hope was on the wing — every feeling, 
though infantile, was strong—he again returned to the 
contest— but what a change ! " To my surprise," he 
observed, " when I went back, she was crying in the 
door-stead. She asked me to forgive her. O yes, that 
I will, I said : and if you will let me go in, and pray 
with you, the Lord will forgive you too." His words 
and his manner, when the woman was left to herself, 
had been the subject of reflection ; and, from the im- 
pression made, she readily acceded to the proposal. 
" She took me in," continued he, " into a room ; and 
there I prayed for her. It was not long before the Lord 
blessed her ; and he thus gave me the first soul I asked 
for. He can do a great work in a little time. She 
lived and died happy- This encouraged me to go on in 
the duty of prayer." 

If an inward renewal is known by its effects, the tree 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 27 

by its fruit, the evidence of Samuel Hick's conversion 
to God is not less certain than if it had been less sudden, 
Ke had employed the means, prayer and faith, instituted 
by God himself, for the attainment of his favour — he ex- 
perienced joy in the Holy Ghost through believing — 
having been made a partaker of " salvation" and being 
" upheld with" God's " free Spirit," he immediately 
began, in primitive style, to " teach transgressors" the 
" ways" of righteousness, and a " sinner" was " con. 
verted" to the truth. The temper of mind which he ma- 
nifested under opposition, his readiness to forgive, the 
constraining influence of the love which he felt, the per- 
severing quality of the principle by which he was actua* 
ted, his joy over a sinner repenting — only to be compa- 
red with that possessed by angelic beings— all, all are 
indications of one of whom it might be said, " Old 
things are passed away : behold, att things are become 
new." Add to this, every part of his personal history, 
from this time to the hour of his death, is confirmatory 
of Christian character. While a career of between forty 
and fifty years of Christian usefulness, connected with a 
strictly moral conduct, renders it improbable that he 
should, for such a length of time, impose upon others, — - 
his views of his state and of his services, and his abhor- 
rence of sin, authorize the belief that there was no de- 
ception practised upon himself. It was not a state of 
mere improved feeling, not the whitewash of pharisaism ; 
the change entered the grain of the man— turning him 
inside out to others, to whom any thing in the shape of 
guile was invisible — and outside in upon himself, while 
he declared, from the internal and external evidence 
which a depraved nature, and a previously sinful life had 
furnished, that he had been " as big a heathen as any 
of the natives of Ceylon," having " had gods many«> 
and lords many ;" but that " the Lord, when he awa- 
kened" his " soul, enabled" him " to cut them off at a 
stroke." He reasoned not with flesh and blood ; he 
spared no Agag — he reserved no sin. 



29 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH, 



CHAPTER III. 

He seeks church fellowship— advises with a pious clergyman, with whom he 
meets in band — unites himself, on the clergyman's leaving the neighbour- 
hood, to the Wesleyan Methodists— the kind of preaching under which he 
profited— Society at Sturton Grange— revival of religion— two colliers ren- 
dered extensively useful— a solitary barn the resort of the devout— Samuel's 
distress on account of indwelling sin, and his deliverance from it— singular 
occurrence— deep distress compatible with a state of justification. 

Man, who was originally formed for society, and fur- 
nished with its felicities in paradise, carries with him 
into every climate, and into all circumstances, those ele- 
ments, which, when properly improved and directed, 
not only fit him for social life, but render him restless 
without it, as well as inspire him with a solicitude for its 
blessings. A few solitary hermitical and misanthropic 
exceptions, or an occasional wish for " wings like a 
dove," to " fly away" from its bustle, in order to " be 
at rest," are not to be adduced as arguments against the 
general principle ; for, even among those who are most 
partial to retirement, who are least in love with the 
world of beings around them, and who, in opposition to 
the designs of God in helping man by man, convert 
themselves into misers' treasure — a kind of moral and 
intellectual cash, hoarded up in the safe of a monastery 
or a nunnery, useless to such as are most in need of 
their aid, and whose wants might be essentially relieved 
by an expenditure of their time and of their talents — 
even among these the love of society is inherent, and is 
manifested by their institutions, where groups are per- 
mitted to dwell and mingle with each other, if not as the 
coin itself, as the misers of Christianity. This love of 
society is not destroyed, but regulated and strengthened 



THE VILLAGE BLAC&SHITH. 29 

by religion ; and by no one is it more needed, or more 
ardently desired than by a person newly " found in" 
Christ. The notion of " going to Heaven alone," of 
preserving our religion a " secret," — which, by the way, 
belongs only to those who have no religion to exhibit — 
is instantly annihilated on the reception of pardon. The 
charm of secrecy is broken ; and why ? There is now 
" something to say" — subject-matter for conversation. 
" A new song" is put into the " mouth," and it must 
be sung ; a " morsel" has been received, and it cannot 
be eaten " alone." Nor is the wish to communicate 
confined barely to a person's entrance on the divine 
life : " it grows with his growth." " They that feared 
the Lord spake often one to another." 

Samuel, who was in danger of casting his " pearls 
before swine" and who had confounded attempts at use- 
fulness, with " the communion of saints," was instinc- 
tively led to seek the latter from the nature of his own 
wants. " I was at a sad loss," says he, " for church- 
fellowship, there being no society near." This " loss" 
could not allude to any privation of privilege with the 
enjoyment of which he had been previously favoured ; 
for no such enjoyment had been known.* The want 
was created with the character which he now sustained. 
It was the want of a child — himself being only a babe 
in Christ — looking for some one to guide and support 
his steps ; the want of another regimen than that to 
which he had been accustomed— of other food for the 
support of a new life. His connexion with the Metho- 
dists, as a hearer, whether occasional or constant, seems 
to have been broken off* with his servitude at Healaugh ; 
and, no persons of that persuasion being near, a closer 
connexion could not be immediately and conveniently 
renewed. Having been accustomed to attend the ser- 
vice of the Established Church, after his residence at 
Micklefield, he naturally looked to its members for com- 
munion. The light, however, which he had received, 
was sufficiently discriminative in its character to guide 

d2 



30 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMXTtf. 

him to the right spot. Instead of " wending his way ?? 
to Aberford, where he had distinguished himself as a 
chorister, he proceeded with the infallibility of instinct 
to Ledsham, and with great simplicity solicited an in- 
terview with the resident clergyman. " I asked him," 
he remarks, " what I should do ? and he told me to 
call on him the next Lord's day morning, when he 
would advise with me." He accordingly repaired to 
the house at the time appointed, and was cordially re. 
ceived as well as religiously instructed. Samuel's tes- 
timony of him— because the testimony of experience — 
is of more value* in an evangelical point of view, than 
the highest panegyric from the pen of a literary nomi- 
nal professor of Christianity. It is the lisping of child- 
hoodj as yet unaccustomed to artifice* " He was a very 
good man, and preached the gospel. I went to Leds- 
ham some time ; but he was at length obliged to leave, 
for his salary would not keep him. Then I was at a 
loss for my band-mate." The last expression, the full 
import of which can only be known and felt by persons 
enjoying the sweets of Christian fellowship, shows the 
tenderness, the condescension, the solicitude, the sym- 
pathies of this ecclesiastic — the Village Patriarch 
stooping from his dignity, and taking, as a band-mate, 
" sweet counsel" with the Village Blacksmith !* 

* Ledsham is the village (in which stands the church) in which 
the late Rev. Walter Sellon, who was vicar of the parish, lived 
and died ; and Ledston Hail, at no great distance from it, is the 
place where the renowned Lady Betty Hastings also resided, and 
finally resigned her soul into the hands of her God. The clergy- 
man of whom Samuel speaks is supposed to have been Mr. Wight. 
man, who was curate to Mr. Sellon, — the former a Calvinist and 
the latter an Arminian in creed; and though salary might have 
its share of influence in the question of removal, it is strongly 
suspected that doctrinal sentiments aided in turning the scale. Mr. 
Sellon was a sturdy supporter of the doctrine of General Redemp- 
tion, and fought some hard battles in early life against the Calvin- 
istic view of the subject, under the auspice of Mr, Wesley; but, 
towards the close of Mr, Wesley's pilgrimage, Mr. Sellon mani- 
fested a degree of coldness towards his old friend. In a manu* 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 31 

This was a gracious providence to Samuel, through 
which he was enabled, in the childhood of his Christi- 
anity, to acquire strength ; and but for which he might 
have found it difficult to walk alone. He had not long, 
however* to bemoan his bereavement. The Lord, on 
removing one stay, speedily supplied its place with ano- 
ther. It was with Samuel, therefore, as with the child, 
a change of nurses, rather than a privation, or even a 
serious suspension of the kindly offices requisite for the 
support and guidance of his weakness and inexperience. 
" The Lord," he observed, " sent Mr. Wade to Sturton 
Grange, where they took in the preachers, and had a 
society. As I felt my want of church-fellowship, I 
went to ask them to take me into society. They offered 
to take me on trial ; and I continued a member till we 
got a society in our own place, which was not long, for 
I never let them alone." He had an ardent desire for 
the salvation of sinners ; and his not letting them alone 
refers as much to his conversational efforts to reclaim 

script correspondence of Mr, Wesley with Mr. Sellon, in the pos* 
session of the writer, it appears that the warmth of friendship be- 
gan to subside when Mr. Sellon resided at Ashby-de-la-Zouch. 
From 1772 to 1784 there is a chasm in the correspondence. Up 
to the former period Mr. Wesley's address was " Dear Walter," 
with all the familiarity of close friendship ; but, on Mr. Sellon's 
residence at Ledsham, at which place ho lived during the latter 
period, the address was altered to " Dear Sir," — one of the letters 
concluding with, " You used to meet me when I came near you ; 
but you seem of late years to have forgotten your old friend and 
brother, John Wesley." Among the manuscript letters referred 
to, are some curious epistolary specimens written by Mr. Charles 
Wesley to Mr. Sellon; also some rare ones addressed to the same 
person, from the Rev^Messrs. J. Fletcher, Vin. Perronet, E. Per- 
ronet, Sir Richard Hill, and the Countess of Huntingdon — all 
tending to throw light on the controversies and passing events of 
the times — which another occasion may render it proper to pre- 
sent to the public. How long Mr, Sellon remained at Ledsham 
the writer is unable at present to ascertain ; but it is probable, 
from the Wesley an Meth. Mag, fur 1818, p. 53, that he was either 
in the village or in its immediate vicinity, in a state of great affile. 
tion 5 in 1790 and 1791, 



32 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

his neighbours, as to any request that a portion of the 
privileges of the society to which he had united himself, 
which was little more than a mile distant, should be 
transferred to Micklefield. Thus adverting to his situa- 
tion, to promote the religious welfare of others, he re- 
marks, " I had a good opportunity, as nearly the whole 
of the town came to my shop ; and I was always at 
them. I found my share of persecution ; but this did 
not daunt me, or prevent me from calling on sinners to 
repent, believe, and be converted." 

It was not barely by reproof and exhortation that he 
sought to multiply the number of travellers to Zion, but 
also by earnest and affectionate invitation. The first, 
fruit of this description of labour — labour which has I 
been extremely productive in a variety of instances — 
was a wealthy agriculturist. " Mr. Thomas Taylor," 
said he, " came to preach at Sturton Grange, and I in- 
vited all I could, to go and hear him. One of these was 
Mr. Rhodes,* a large farmer, who lived in the parish ; 
and who said, if I would call upon him, he would go with 
me. Blessed be the Lord ! on the same night the gos- 
pel proved the power of God to his salvation. I remem- 
ber the text.; it referred to the tares and the wheat. The 
tares were gathered, and tied into bundles. There was 
a bundle of Sabbath-breakers, a bundle of swearers, &c. 
These bundles were to be burnt ; and, before the ser- 
mon was finished, the preacher got Mr. Rhodes bound up 
in one of them. From that time the Lord added to our 
number ; we got preachii.g to our place, and soon had a 
class-meeting." This, it should seem, from a reference 
to the Minutes of Conference, was^ither in the year 
1785 or 1786, when Mr. Taylor was stationed in the 
Leeds circuit. Such preaching was as much calculated | 

* In a letter from Mr. Dawson, dated April 3d, 1830, referring 
to Mr. Rhodes, he observes, " He is still living at Micklefield. 
I saw him yesterday. He is nearly blind, and his constitution is 
fast breaking up. He will not survive Samuel long. The Me- 
thodists always preached, and still preach at his house." 



; 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 33 

Hs instruct the uneducated mind of Samuel, as it was to 
arrest the attention of the farmer. Keach would have 
been a superior preacher in his estimation to Saurin, 
and he would have profited more by the Metaphors of 
the one than by the Sermons of the other. He could 
fasten upon some of the more prominent parts of a 
highly figurative discourse, and turn them to good per- 
sonal and practical account ; but would have been in 
danger of running wild with the remainder. He knew 
much better when to commence, than how to proceed, 
or where to close. 

But it was not in criticism that he was skilled ; nor 
as it into the niceties of Christian doctrine that he 
ould enter. He knew the truth much better in its ope- 
ration on the heart, than in its shinings on the under- 
standing ; and could tell much better how it felt, than in 
what position and connexion it stood. He seemed to 
possess the faculty in religion, which some blind people 
are said to possess, in a rare degree, in reference to 
colours — -a faculty of describing it by the touch ; for 
scarcely any thing advanced amounted with him to 
truth, unless it fell with power upon his heart. He had 
received the doctrine of justification as an experimental 
truth, though utterly unable, in puritanic style, to enter 
into a detail of its moving, meritorious, remote, immediate, 
and instrumental causes ; and this led to another doctrine 
equally momentous — a doctrine of experience, no less 
than of theory — the sanctification of the heart to God. 
u After he had enjoyed the blessing of conscious par- 
don," says Mr. Dawson, "he discovered that there was 
a higher state of grace to be attained ; that such state 
was purchased for him by the blood of Jesus Christ, and 
was to be applied to his soul by the Holy Ghost, through 
faith. This he sought in the way which God appointed, 
and found the promise realized : ' Every one that ask- 
eth receiveth ; and he that seeketh findeth ; and to him 
that knock||h it shall be opened.' He was enabled to 
believe for a higher enjoyment of divine love, and, from 



34 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

the hour he believed, obtained a richer measure of it, 
through which he was empowered to * Rejoice ever- 
more ; pray without ceasing ; in every thing give 
thanks.' " 

This further change was wrought in his soul in the 
year 1794 ; and the following are some of the circuni- 
stances connected with its attainment. "About this 
time (1794)," he observes, " there was a great revival 
of the work of God at Sturton Grange, near Micklefield. 
The meetings were held in Rig Lair.* Some hundreds 
of souls were converted to God, and many were sancti- 
fied. I was one of the happy number, not only con - A ^ 
vinced of the necessity of Christian holiness, but whaH 
blessed be the Lord ! proved for myself, that the blooo^ 
of Christ cleanseth from sin." Mr. Dawson, in advert- 
ing to this extraordinary work of God, in connection 
with Samuel's progress in religion, states that " there 
was an extraordinary outpouring of the Spirit upon 
nearly the whole of Yorkshire, and that it was most 
remarkably felt in the neighbourhood of Mickleiield. 
At a solitary barn," continues he, " which stands on a 
farm belonging to Mr. Wade, at Sturton, near the Ro- 
man road leading from Castleford to Aberford, a prayer 
meeting was held every Sunday morning and Monday 
evening. These meetings were especially owned of 
God. The glory of the Lord filled the place, and the 
power of God was present to wound and to Real, to kill 
and to make alive. Two colliers,f men who gave 

* Lair — a barn, in the west of Yorkshire, 
t One of these men was supported by the bounty of the late 
Mr. Broadhurst, of Swinton, for the sole purpose of enabling him 
to devote his time to the visitation of the sick, &c. and died lately 
at Manchester, where he had resided several years. His brother 
William, the other person alluded to, married a person belonging 
to Pollington, a village about three miles from Snaith, Yorkshire, 
where he continued useful as an exhorter and class-leader for a 
considerable length of tuns — ended his days in peace, about five 
years ago — and left a widow and two or three chftlrcn. They 
received the appellation of the " Praying Colliers." The one 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 35 

themselves to prayer, were very successful instruments 
in the hand of the Lord in the conversion of scores, if 
not hundreds of persons, in the course of the summer. 
Our late brother Hick took his full share in the work, 
and experienced a full share of the glory. Sabbath 
after Sabbath the barn was rilled with people ; the cries 
of penitence were heard in different places, and were 
frequently succeeded by songs of praise. The colliers 
were invited to the neighbouring villages, whither friend 
IJick accompanied them in their work of faith and labour 
of love. Often has he been heard to relate the con- 
quests of redeeming love, as witnessed in these journies, 
from which he frequently returned home rejoicing — 
rejoicing more than earthly conquerors, when they find 
great spoil. 

Under the general influence referred to, Samuel was 
led, as stated above, to seek a further work of grace. 
At the midnight hour he retired to this " barn" whose 
solitude was deepened by the season, for private devo- 
tion. He bowed the knee in one of its unfrequented 
nooks ; but before he had proceeded to offer a petition 
to God, whom alone he supposed to be present, he 
heard the voice of prayer in an opposite corner. He 
paused — he listened — the shadows of night had fallen 
too thickly around to permit him to see any one. Un- 
expected as it was, it was the voice of melody to his 
ear : still he listened, and at length he recognised the 
voice of Praying George, one of the colliers, who 
was wrestling like Jacob ; repeating again and a- 
gain, " Lord ! wash my heart ; Lord ! wash my 
heart ;" adding emphasis to each repetition — elevating 
his voice as he rose in fervour — but as little suspect- 
ing that he was heard by a fellow-creature, as Sa- 
muel did that he should find any one in the place at 

who resided in Manchester, and who was personally known to 
the writer, was generally designated by the title of " Praying 
George." Their proper name, — the one by which they were 
least known,— was Mosely. 



36 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH, 

such an hour. He soon gave the response to George's 
prayer, who, in his turn, was surprised to find that Sam- 
uel had stolen into the place for the same purpose. They 
mingled their petitions and spirits together, and increased 
each other's ardour. " I thought," said Samuel, " if the 
Lord could wash George's heart, he could also wash 
mine ; and I was fully convinced, that if George's heart 
wanted washing, mine required it much more ; for I con- 
sidered him far before me in divine grace." He pro- 
ceeded from the very first on the principle, that " God is 
no respecter of persons" and that from the immutability 
of his nature, the same power and goodness exercised in 
one case could, and really would, be exercised in another, 
where a compliance with the means proposed to attain ^ 
the end was observed. 

He experienced much of the presence of God in 
prayer, but no satisfactory evidence of the blessing 
which he sought. Having in all probability remained 
in the same position for a great length of time, and 
having been earnest in his pleadings, he was so afFected 
and enfeebled when he rose, that he was unable to 
stand erect, and was obliged, as he expressed himself, 
to "walk home almost double." On passing along one 
of the fields, he heard a sudden and "mighty rush" 
over his head, as he termed it, the sound of which he 
compared to a large covey of "pigeons," sweeping the 
air with their wings. Being partially bent towards the 
ground, and the morning light not having dawned upon 
the earth, he was unable to perceive any thing, had any 
appearance been visible. He started — but all was gone 
in an instant. Having just come from the spot where 
he had been holding converse with God, and linked as 
he was in spirit to the invisible world, it was natural for 
him — whatever becomes of either the rationality or the 
Christianity of the act — to direct his thoughts thither ; 
and the sound had but just passed, when it occurred to 
him, " This is the prince of the power of the air." On 
reaching home, he named the circumstance to his wife> 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 37 

who was still more struck with it, when, on having oc- 
casion to go into the fields some hours afterwards, to 
milk the cows, she heard the same noise as described 
by Samuel, but saw nothing from whence it could pro- 
ceed.* 

Instead of retiring to rest, he spent the whole of the 
morning in private prayer; and such was his distress, — 
being, as he forcibly expressed himself, " under deep 
conviction for holiness,"— that he could "neither eat, 
sleep, nor work." He continues, "I went mourning 
and pleading the whole of that day and of that night, 
but could find no rest to my soul. The next morning, 
about eight o'clock, I knelt me down upon the same flag 
on which God had pardoned my sins ; and while I was 
pleading his promises, faith sprung up in my heart ; I 
found that the blood of Christ did indeed cleanse me 
from all sin. I immediately leaped up from my knees. 
I seemed to have gotten both a new body and a new 
soul. The former appeared like corkwood, it was so 
light. I was clear in mv sanctification. It was received 
by faith in Christ. All was joy, peace, and love. My 
soul was constantly mounting in a chariot of fire ; the 
world and the devil were under my feet." 

* Though no anxiety is felt by the writer, for his credit as an 
author, in giving publicity to this circumstance; and though he 
has no particular wish to give a supernatural character to it, he 
would, nevertheless, lend an attentive ear to the solution of a 
few difficulties with which the subject is involved. The sound 
was heard by two persons at distinct periods ; no appearance was 
visible in either case; — the sound was like that of birds upon the 
wing; — the hour was unseasonable, in the first instance, for any 
Mrds to be abroad, except the owl; — in the second instance, the 
night bird must have disappeared ; — and what might have been 
invisible co" Samuel through the darkness of the hour, ought to 
have been seen by his wife in the morning light; — and on the 
supposition that the imagination of the former might have been 
a little affected, still the case of the latter — a person of a much 
cooler temperament, and one who had not been passing through 
the' same nocturnal process — preserves the whole in its native 
force. 

E 



38 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

The martyrdom of spirit which Samuel experienced 
on the death of the depravity of his nature, can only be 
understood by those who have suffered on the same rack ; 
and there are not a few who have suffered more because 
of indwelling sin, than under conviction of its enormity 
and punishment, as was evidently the case with the sub- 
ject of this memoir. It is not difficult to explain this, 
except to the "natural man," to whom every experi- 
mental subject is mysterious. But to the purely enlight- 
ened it is well known, that the discipline experienced in 
the school of repentance, in which the " heavy laden" 
sinner "labours" under an oppressive burden, prior to 
his entering into "rest" — into that Jirst or preparatory 
state of repose, consequent on his justification or dis- 
charge from guilt — is occasionally less severe than the 
discipline which is afterwards exercised in the school of 
Christ — into which school the penitent enters immedi- 
ately on the reception of pardon, and in which, prior to 
his reception of what the poet styles " that second rest," 
be is taught to "learn" of him who was " meek and lowly 
in heart," and while under his tuition, has, even in that 
state, to bend the neck of his spirit to the "yoke" which 
his divine teacher imposes. Human nature is not made 
of sufficiently tractable materials — has been too long 
accustomed to an improper bias, to sit composed under 
the restraints of such a yoke, or instantly to yield to its 
forms. The workman called " the old man, is hostile 
to all the works of " the new man ;" and will not supinely 
give up his possessions. On the justification of a sinner, 
peace, sweet peace, falls npon the soul with the softness 
of flakes of snow; and to persons in an im aginative 
mood, it is as easy — barring the coldness of the metaphor 
— to perceive the sou! beautifully covered with it, and 
shining in its external whiteness : ? but in the s a notification 
of the spirit, the work goes deeper than the soul's surface. 
And, to change the metaphor, it is not till after a person's 
justification, that Crod takes the lid from off the top of the 
sepulchre of the human heart, and unfolds to view its 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 3D 

hidden filth — the beholder, like an unamiable being 
looking at himself in a mirror, being startled at his own 
appearance. The pain experienced in both states, 
though severe, differs in its character, because produced 
by widely different causes. Actual transgression is the 
immediate cause of penitential distress, and innate deprav- 
ity that of a believer's grief — the one finding relief in an 
act of pardoning mercy, and the other in a work of puri- 
fying grace ; or in other words, both in the death of Jesus 
Christ, through the merit of whose blood the guilt of sin 
is cancelled, and by the virtue of whose blood the pollution 
of the soul is cleansed : and the taint, if such an expression 
may be allowed, is as painful and odious to the enlightened 
mind, as is. its guilt to the awakened conscience. To the 
woodman who wishes to eradicate, to have the ground 
perfectly clear, it is as mortifying to have the roots left 
in the earth, as to see the tree standing ; and having cleft 
the one, he is the more solicitous to have the other plucked 
up, not only that he may not lose what he has already 
wrought, but that he may prevent its again shooting 
upward, and by further growth producing still more 
pernicious fruit. While the misery of a penitent is to 
be found in the accusations of a guilty conscience, fol- 
lowed up by awful forebodings of " wrath to come," the 
believer's distress arises from a fear of falling- -an in- 
ward abhorrence of every thing rising in the soul incom- 
patible with unsullied purity — an anxious desire after a 
full conformity to the divine image — an exquisitely con- 
stituted conscience, which is as tender to the touch as 
the apple of the eye — the consciousness of still possessing 
a heart prone to wander from the living God, and of a 
nature upon which temptation, without great watchful- 
ness, may still operate to the ruin of the soul — a keener 
insight into the spirituality of the sacred law — a quick- 
sightedness and frequent anticipations of danger — the 
whole working the mind into a state of earnestness and 
of agony to be "freed from the yoke of inbred sin." 
In the latter state there is no sense of guilt, nor conse- 



40 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

quently of the divine displeasure, and therefore no fear 
of punishment ; yet there is a continual loathing of self — 
" war in the members"— dying to live. All this appears 
to have been known and felt by Samuel Hick, whose 
own statement leads to the conclusion, that he suffered 
much more as a believer than as a penitent — through 
the union of which two characters the man of God is 
made perfect. 

After he had risen from his favourite " flag," for which 
he entertained a kind of uperstitious respect, and which 
was now rendered " doubly dear," he walked forth some 
time in brightness. The blessing of purity, which he had 
received, was never lost through actual transgression ; 
and although he was twice in a state of deep distress 
respecting its evidence, it was soon regained by the exer- 
cise of the same means, and an application to the same 
source, through which it was first obtained, " He expe- 
rienced it," says Mr. Dawson, " upwards of thirty years 
— lived and died in the full possession of its excellencies. 
O, with what warmth, affection, and pathos, he used to 
speak of his enjoying the perfect love of God in his 
heart! — that love which casts out tormenting fear, and 
strongly and sweetly constrains the whole soul to engage 
in the whole will of God, as revealed in his word ! This 
love expanded his naturally affectionate heart, and his 
bowels yearned for the salvation of his friends, his neigh- 
hours, and the world." 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. H 



CHAPTER IV 

Samuel's public character— his call to speak in public— a dream— reproves a 
clergyman— assists in prayer-meetings — visits Uowden and other places— 
a remarkable out-pouring of the Spirit of God— his power in prayer— labours 
to be useful— suits his language and thoughts to the employment of persons 
addressed— a general plan laid down for the spread of religion in the villages 
of Garforth, Barwick, &c. — Samuel received as a regular local preacher — 
his person, intellect, influence, peculiarities, tenderness, language, style of 
preaching — an apology for his ministry. 

Two things have contributed essentially to the spread of 
Wesleyan Methodism ; first, the adaptation of its rules 
and regulations to every condition of man: and, secondly, 
the provision which its rules have made for the encourage- 
ment and exercise of every description of talent. Having 
risen out of circumstances, it accommodates itself to that 
nature which is the same in every climate to which those 
circumstances belong ; and it can furnish employment 
for all, from the youth that lisps in prayer to the elo- 
quence of the pulpit — from the Village Blacksmith to 
the man crowned with academical honours. The sys- 
tem, under God, brought into exercise the powers pos- 
sessed by Samuel Hick, who has been heard to say, "I 
know that the Lord has given me one talent, and I am 
resolved to use it. He has given friend D. ten ; but I 
am determined that he shall never run away with my 
one." And to his honour it may be recorded, that he 
made his one go much farther in real interest to the cause 
of God, than many with ten times the intellect and influ- 
ence. 

He appears to have exercised occasionally in public, 
prior to the revival of the work of God at Sturton Grange. 
Mr. Dawson remarks, that " he first engaged in the 

e 2 



42 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH^ 

prayer-meetings, and next spoke a word by way of ex- 
hortation. The last was done like himself, and always 
gained the attention of his hearers." Exclusive of a 
distinct impression upon his mind that it was his duty ta 
call sinners to repentance, he was not a little influenced 
by a dream which he had, and to which he might be 
excused for paying the greater attention, as God em- 
ployed a dream for the purpose of rousing him from spi- 
ritual slumber ; and more especially might he be excused, 
when revelation warrants the belief, that " In a dream, 
in a vision of the night, when deep sleep falleth upon 
men, in slumbers upon the bed, then" God " openeth the 
ears of men, and sealeth their instruction." The 
substance of it was this : — He dreamed one night that he 
set sail to the West Indies in the character of a mission- 
ary, to preach the gospel to the poor negroes — that, on 
his landing, he saw a pulpit, the stairs of which he as- 
cended ; and, on unfolding the leaves of the Bible which 
was laid before him, a perfect blank was presented to his 
eye. "A pretty thing this," said he to himself; "a Bi- 
ble, and not a text in it !" He turned over the leaves 
again and again, and suddenly on one of the white pages 
several beautiful gold letters sprung into form, and daz* 
zled his sight. The words were, "Prepare ye the way 
of the Lord," &c. These he announced as his text, and 
began to preach. In the course of the sermon a poor 
woman was so affected while intently listening to him, 
and gazing upon him, that she cried aloud for mercy. 
He instantly quitted the pulpit, descended its steps, di- 
rected his way to the penitent, prayed with her, and soon 
had the unspeakable pleasure of hearing her proclaim 
the mercy of God in the forgiveness of her sins. From 
this pleasing dream he awoke ; and under its warmest 
impression, exclaimed to his wife, accosting her by name, 
" Matty, I believe I am called to preach the gospel." 
Martha, less awake to the subject than himself, requested 
him to go to sleep again, not a little infidel in her princi- 
ples respecting it. 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH, 43 

This relation was given in his own way, on a platform, 
at the first Wesleyan Missionary Meeting held at Selby, 
November 16th, 1814, before a crowded audience, when 
the writer of this memoir was present, together with Mr. 
Dawson and others, and for the first time was favoured 
with the sight of Samuel. The description of the vessel 
in which he made his voyage, which is too ludicrous to 
appear among graver associations — his suddenly turning 
to the pulpit, and pointing to it as a model of the one in 
which he supposed himself to have preached — the famil- 
iarity of some of his comparisons, his views rising no 
higher, in reference to the gold characters, from his days 
having been spent mostly in the country, than some of 
the more costly sign boards of the tradesman — his gro- 
tesque figure, and still more characteristic action, for the 
latter of which he was not a little indebted to his trade, 
his arms being stretched out, with his hands locked in 
each other, while he elevated and lowered them as though 
he had been engaged at the anvil ; varying in his move- 
ments as he rose in zeal and quickened in delivery, be- 
coming more and more emphatic — his tears — his smiles 
— his tenderness — his simplicity — the adroitness with 
which he turned upon the text, the effects of the sermon, 
&c. to strengthen his call to the work — the manner in 
which he brought the subject to bear upon the object of 
the meeting — and his offering himself in the fulness of 
his spirit at the close as a missionary, telling the people 
that his " heart was good," his " health was good," and 
his " appetite was good ;" that he wanted not their mo- 
ney, but would bear his own expenses ; and that sustain- 
ing his own burden, he should consider it, provided fa- 
mily connexi^s would admit, the highest honour that 
could be conferred upon him ; — the whole, in short, pro- 
duced, both upon the platform and among the people, an 
eifect rarely witnessed, and a scene calculated to move 
on with the memory, and live as a distinct picture in the 
imagination. 

That he had other and more substantial proofs of his 



44 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH* 

call to exercise in public, there is no question ; but the 
above shews the peculiar cast of his mind, and his atten- 
tion to what was passing within, whether asleep or awake, 
together with his readiness to convert every thing to pious 
purposes — manifesting, in innumerable instances, strong, 
er evidences o^ piety than of judgment. 

He regularly attended Mickletield Chapel of Ease, in 
which service was performed about this time, once a fort- 
night on the Lord's day, by the Rev. T. of Monk- 

fryson, a village about five miles distant. Mr. T. had 
ten shillings and six-pence per day allowed him for his 
labour; but neither exhibiting the morality of the gospel 
in his life, nor preaching its doctrines in the pulpit, — 
denying the inspiration of the Spirit in his sermon, after 
the people had been praying for it in the Liturgy, Samuel 
took the liberty of addressing him on the subject one day, 
as he was passing his door on his way to Fryson. " Sir," 
said he, "I must tell you, that you do not preach the 
gospel. You say that there has been no such thing as 
inspiration since the Apostles' days. Your sermon con- 
tradicts your prayers ; and I know by experience, that 
there is such a thing as inspiration." He added, " I 
have been praying to my Lord either to convert you, 
that you may preach the truth, or that he would send 
some one else to preach it ; and I fully believe, that he 
will not let you come here much longer." Mr. T. said 
little in reply : and though Samuel's rebuke might be 
deemed a compound of ignorance and of impudence, by 
those who knew him least, yet such was the event, that 
Mr. T. only preached in Micklefield Church Chapel two 
or three times afterwards, and an evangelical clergyman 
supplied for some time his place. Thd^fact is simply 
stated ; every reader may select and enjoy his own infer- 
ence ; but place Samuel's prayer out of the question, his 
fidelity — and this is the chief design of the relation — is 
of more real value in the illustration of character, than 
any conjecture as to the cause of the change. 

In the earlier part of his public history, to which it is 



TIIE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. £5 

proper to return, an extensive field of usefulness was laid* 
before him, in the line which Providence apparently- 
marked out for the ''Praying Colliers," with whose la- 
bours his own were soon identified. Wherever he went, 
he was popular and useful ; but his popularity was rather 
the result of singularity, than drawn upon him by any 
peculiar display of pulpit talent ; while his usefulness was 
chiefly among those of his own order, .though he was 
highly respected by his superiors in talent and in pro- 
perty. Not being as yet, however, a regularly accredited 
local preacher, remarks on his mental powers, and the 
character and style of his public addresses, must be re- 
served for the period when he was fairly brought upon 
the local preacher's plan. 

One of his earliest public excursions was into the Hull 
circuit, whither he was invited in company with the 
" Colliers," and from the outskirts of which no less than 
seven horses were sent to carry them and their colleagues 
to the first scene of labour — Spaldington Outside, where 
they were met by the Rev. James Wood,, the superintend- 
ent : — a pilgrimage this, which, while it might have fur- 
nished Chaucer with an episode for his " Canterbury 
tales," would have greatly enhanced their devotional 
character. Samuel was in the full enjoyment of the 
heaven which the witness of his sanctification had im- 
parted, and was ready to conclude, as he observed, that 
" the enemy of souls was dead, because" he himself 
" was dead to sin ;" bufjie found that he was only enter- 
ing the field of battle ; rejoicing meanwhile, that he " was 
provided with the whole armour of God." 

Mr. Wood, whose judgment, gravity, and experience 
would operate as a suitable check to the ebulliency of 
spirit of these revivalists, accompanied them to several 
places. Howden was the first place at which an extra- 
ordinary influence of the Holy Spirit was manifested; 
and was especially felt in a prayer-meeting, in the awak- 
ening of sinners, many of whom, Samuel observed^ 
" cried out like the slain in battle," Several of the old 



46 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

members, offended with the noise, left the chapel. 
" They could not stand this," said Samuel ; adding, in 
his peculiar turn of thought, "It was a mercy they went 
out; for it rid the place of a deal of unbelief, which they 
took away with them. ,, Previously to leaving the chapel 
himself, he had a rencounter with one of his own trade, 
a genuine son of Vulcan, who might have been drawn to 
the spot from what he had heard of the Village Black- 
smith. Samuel was pressing home, by personal appeal, 
the subject of experimental religion upon an old man, 
when the person referred to came up to him, and request- 
ed him to let the old man alone, declaring him to be ex- 
ceeded by no one in the town for honesty, and affirming 
his belief that he would go to heaven when he died. 
Samuel brought him to the test of "sin forgiven ;" stat- 
ing, if he knew not this, he doubted of hi* safety. His 
opponent immediately fired, telling him, if he said so 
again, he would " fell" him. This was language which 
Samuel would not have brooked on the day he heard Mr. 
Burdsall, at York, without the metal of his own temper 
being heated to the same temperature with that of the 
person who stood before him ; but he was now another 
man, and fought with other weapons. He replied with 
undaunted brow, " I have no fear of that : if you lift your 
hand up, I believe you will not get it down again." So 
saying, he dropped upon his knees, and began to pray for 
the man, who, apparently afraid lest the prayer should 
turn upon judgme?it rather than nfercy, made a precipitate 
flight. 

After the service was closed, he went to the house of 
Mr. Ward, a local preacher, where he was invited to 
spend the night. The good lady of the house, being of 
the Baptist persuasion, was less prepared than her hus- 
band for the feverous agitation attendant on some of the 
prayer-meetings, and, agreeably to her own views, lec- 
tured Samuel on the subject, declaring that he and his 
associates were destroying the work of God, and that 
they had made the house of God a house of confusion ; 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 47 

warmly recommending decency and order. " Confu- 
sion !" he exclaimed ; " I believo there was such con- 
fusion, and great confusion too, on the day of Pente- 
cost." But it was not for him to stand and reason the 
case with his hostess, however competent to the task ; 
he therefore adopted his " short and easy method" of 
settling disputes, by going to prayer ; " for I thought," 
said he, "she and I should agree best upon our knees." 
He there poured forth his petitions with great simplicity 
and fervour for her and for the family. When he arose 
she affectionately took him by the hand, which, to him, 
was the right hand of fellowship. On finding another 
spirit in her, he told her, that, in most revivals of reli- 
gion, " three sorts of work" might be recognised — 
" the work of God, the work of man, and the work of 
the devil ;" stating, that, when the two latter were de- 
stroyed, the first would stand ; and that we should be 
careful not to injure the one in suppressing the other. 
The good lady was so completely overcome by the sin- 
cerity and simplicity of his intentions, his spirit, and his 
manners, that she made it her study to render his stay 
as agreeable as possible, by heaping upon him every 
social comfort. His mode of conducting a discussion, 
or more properly, of terminating one, was the best ad- 
apted to his own case, and might be safely recom- 
mended in nine instances out of every ten, where the 
best side of a question is entertained with the worst ar- 
guments for its support ; for certainly a question is not 
to be decided by the merits of the person who takes it 
up ; and the best of causes may have the feeblest advo- 
cates. 

The next day the party went to Spaldington Outside, 
at which place a gentleman of the name of Bell at pre- 
seat resides; and such was the concourse of people 
collected together from neighbouring and distant parts, 
that no building could be found sufficiently large to ac- 
commodate them. The horses of those that rode were 
tied to the gates and hedges,— giving the distant appear* 



46 THK VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

ance of a troop of cavalry, and the company divided 
themselves into two distinct bands, and occupied two 
large barns. In the band originally intended for the 
-meeting a temporary platform was erected for the ac- 
commodation of the prayer-leaders, exhorters, and more 
respectable portion of the female part of the auditory. 
The latter, in the estimation of Samuel, were mere 
spectators of the work of God upon others. The influ- 
ence, however, becoming more general, one of these, 
under deep awakenings of soul, cried aloud for mercy ; 
and, as though determined to be avenged of her beset- 
ting sin, her love of finery, she made a sacrifice of part 
of her adornings upon the spot, by throwing them among 
the poorer people below. With the exception of two or 
three extravagances — the absence of which had been 
more remarkable than their manifestation, and which 
are subjects of forbearance rather than approval under 
all such circumstances — the meeting was attended with 
great good. 

From this place they proceeded to Newport, where 
several persons were convinced of sin, and others' found 
peace with God ; the service continued till midnight : 
Mr. James Wood conducted the meeting, which was 
distinguished by great decorum. Instead of going to 
Hull the succeeding day, as previously arranged, Samuel 
was obliged to return home. But it was of no import- 
ance where he was : on the road, in his shop, in the 
field, he was ceaseless in his attempts to benefit those 
who came in his way. 

Journeying homeward, he saw a young man sowing 
seed in a field, whom he accosted in his usually abrupt, 
yet affectionate manner : " You seem in earnest. — 
Have you had time to water your seed?" " No," re- 
turned the sower ; " we never water this kind of seed : 
it is wheat, not rye, that we steep, and sprinkle with 
lime." Samuel had another object in view, and said, 
" That is not what I want to be at : have you been on 
your knees this morning, praying to God to give his 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 49 

blessing to the seed ?" This instantly brought the 
charge of Methodism against him. " O, you are a Me- 
thodist ! If you had been at our church yesterday, you 
would have heard our parson give them their char- 
acter." "You had a poor errand there," was the 
reply : " if the Methodists are wrong, you ought to pray 
for them to be set right." It was in this way that he 
was constantly scattering seed — not always skilfully, 
yet often seasonably ; for there were many instances of 
its falling into " good ground." 

He did not always escape with the same triumphant 
feeling as that with which he withdrew from the sower 
just noticed, in his attempts at usefulness. Though his 
knowledge was limited within very narrow bounds, yet, 
as far as it extended, his sense of propriety always led 
him to delight in seeing any employment attended to in 
a workmanlike manner. On another occasion he per- 
ceived a youth turning up a piece of land with the 
plough. His patience, which was occasionally one of 
his most vulnerable parts, being a little touched with the 
carelessness and awkwardness of the lad, he shouted 
out, as he paused a moment to look at him, " How dare 
you attempt to plough my Lord's land in ^that way ?" 
proceeding to give him some directions, when he was 
stopped short by him ; — thus showing not only his quick- 
ness in comprehending Samuel's allusion to the Divine 
Proprietor, but his smartness in so promptly meeting 
him in his own character, — " I am turning up a bov:L 
ing-green for the devil;" intimating as much as though 
any thing done, and in any way, was good enough for 
the purpose to which the ground was to be devoted. 
This was so much relished by Samuel, that the notions 
of agricultural propriety which were fluttering in his 
imagination, and to which he was about to give utter- 
ance, broke up like a congregation of swallows in au= 
tumn — took instant flight, only to return with the ap- 
pearance of the plough in the course of the ensuing 
spring ; as also did all the moral lessons which he in- 

F 



50 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

tended to found on the employment in which the lad 
was engaged. 

Another field of labour opened to him after this period, 
more regular and permanent in its character, ana much 
jrioro accommodating to his circumstances. " About 
the year 1797," says Mr. Dawson, " a plan was laid 
down to engage the talents of all the prayer-leaders and 
exhorters in the villages of Garforth, Barwick, Kippax, 
and Micklefield, together with other places in the vici- 
nity ; all of whom were to be united, and to itinerate 
through the whole neighbourhood. Brother Hick very 
readily agreed to have his name entered upon the plan, i 
and having a horse at command, he could go to the 
most distant places, without difficulty. He attended 
promptly and conscientiously to his appointments, so 
long as the union existed ; and it was this plan that 
brought him to the notice of many persons who other- 
wise would not have been acquainted with him, and laid 
the foundation of his future and more widely extended 
usefulness. After this, his name was placed upon the 
regular local preachers' plan, of the Pontefract circuit, 
the places of which he supplied with pleasure to himself 
and profit to the people, to whom he recommended the 
person and salvation of Jesus Christ. When Mickle- 
field was taken into the Selby circuit, his name was 
inserted in the plan of the local preachers belonging to 
that circuit ; but, residing on the borders of the Selby 
and Pontefract circuits, his name stood on both plans."* 
In reference to the last particular, Mr. Dawson pro- 
ceeds : — " I remember calling upon him one day, when 

* This was considerably subsequent to the period of 1797, when 
the general plan was made, which associated the prayer-leaders 
with the exhorters. One of Samuel's contemporaries thinks it 
was not till 1803, that he was regularly admitted on the plan, 
though he had addressed public assemblies from the time stated 
as above. Prior to the year 1807, the plans of the Pontefract 
circuit were written ; after that, they were printed. Selby be- 
came the head of a circuit in 1812, 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH, 51 

he observed, that his time was pretty well filled up, say- 
ing, ' You see I have my name upon both Pontefract 
and Selby plans ; ? emphatically adding, * there is no 
living with half work.' " It was his "meat and his 
drink,' 7 like Him " who went about doing good," to do 
the will of his Father ; and in the execution of that wilt 
he alone could live. 

The first time he ventured to take a text was in a 
school-room, in Aberford, his native place ; and it was 
the one with which he was dazzled in his dream. The 
room was crowded ; and it is probable that the success 
of this, and a few similar attempts, might have led the 
way for the insertion of his name on the plan among 
" exhorters." That the attempt was prior to such in- 
sertion is likely from the fact of the person, belonging 
to the school-room, having joined Mr. Kilham's adhe- 
rents sonn after the division, on the event of which 
there would be but little disposition to grant the loan of 
the place, owing to the state of party feeling, which; 
was then at the highest point of elevation. He had 
large congregations in those days ; and, when he had 
no regular appointment, he very often, in company with 
his friend William Brandfoot, travelled from ten to fif- 
teen miles to a lovefeast ; — an example, by the way, 
which is not much to be commended, and which be- 
comes criminal — though far from the case with Samuel 
— when persons give the preference to a lovefeast in the 
country to the Sacrament of the Lord's Supper in the 
town, and nearly at their own door. 

Being now fairly before the public, it is desirable 
that a distinct image of the man should be put into the 
possession of the reader, that he may have a more cor- 
rect conception of the personage with whom he passes 
along, instead of being mi the presence of a kind of in- 
visible agent, with whom he is permitted to converse m 
the dark, tilt the writer, in the usual biographical mode^ 
and as though his pen had been previously employed on 
some other person* is pleased to unveil his subject at the 



52 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH* 

close of his work, in the exhibition of a summary sketch 
of his character. The subject of this memoir may be 
considered at this period as possessing that, which, in 
the general acceptation of the term, properly constitutes 
character, and that, too, perfectly distinct in itself. In- 
stead, therefore of throwing the mind of the reader back, 
at the close of the book, upon that which has grown out 
of character, and not character from it, he must carry 
forward with him a distinct recollection of the man, 
through which he will be the better prepared for all 
that may follow, as well as judge of the likeness given 
— the one proceeding from the other like the tree from 
the root, the bough from the stem, and the fruit from 
the minor branches ; just as character gives rise to 
circumstances, and circumstances become the medium 
through which the tempers of the mind and dispositions 
of the heart are manifested, unfolding themselves to 
others, either as wholesome or pernicious fruit. 

There was but little that might be deemed preposses- 
sing in his person. He was tall and bony, rising to the 
height of about six feet. Hard labour, and the nature 
of his employment — lowering one arm with the iron, 
and raising the other with the hammer, while he stooped 
at the anvil — gave a roundness to the upper part of his 
back and a slight elevation to his right shoulder. His 
hair was naturally light ; his complexion fair; his face 
full, but more inclined to the oval than the round ; and 
his general features small, with a soft, quick, blue-grey, 
twinkling eye, partaking of the character of his mind, 
twinkling in thought and sending out occasional and in- 
expressible natural beauties, like streaks of sunshine 
between otherwise darkly rolling clouds. 

His mind was peculiarly constructed, and had all the 
effect, in preaching and in conversation, of an intellect 
broken into fragments — not shining forth as a whole, 
like the sun diffusing light and day, — but as the scat- 
tered portions shining separately, like stars in the hea- 
vens ; and these too, not silently and slowly stealing 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH, bW 

out, one by one, but suddenly breaking upon the eye in 
numbers, and from unexpected quarters, some of them 
but indistinctly visible, and others as lovely as Venus 
m all her glory. He appeared utterly incapable ot 
classifying his thoughts ;* and it is doubted by the 
writer, whether any mode of mental discipline which 
could have been adopted, even in youth, would have 
reduced his then comparatively chaotic mind to order ; 
and equally doubtful, whether any society, vyth such a 
peculiarly constructed mind, would have given ease ? 
and grace, and polish to his manners. Yet rude, or 
perhaps more properly, unwieldy, as were the latter^ 
there was nothing to offend ; for, while persons in the 

* In the more lengthened extracts given from his papers, the 
writer has occasionally taken the liberty of transposing some of 
the thoughts, for the sake of preserving something like unity and 
order; attending at the same time, with the strictest scrupulosity, 
to the sense intended to bo conveyed to the reader. Samuel was 
not altogether ignorant of the character and extent of his inleh 
lectual powers, any more than of his moral condition. Speaking 
of him to Dr. A. Clarke once, the writer found that Samuel had 
visited him at his residence, Haydeu Hall, near Pinner, Middlesex, 
in the neighbourhood of which the Dr. sent him to conduct a 
religious meeting, with a view to communicate, under God, a 
quickening influence to the people, for which, as an instrument,, 
he was tolerably calculated. The Doctor had met with him at 
Birstal, in Yorkshire, prior to this period ; and related with a 
degree of pleasantry — for it was impossible for the most grave to 
relate some of his conversations without a slight contortion of 
the facial nerve — his first interview witii him. Samuel, with 
his usual openness and simplicity, covered with smiles, stepped 
quickly up to the Doctor — shook hands with him — and after a 
few words, artlessly proceeded thus: — " You can get through 
with preaching better than me : I cannot bear to be disturbed : 
I have but one idea, you see ; and if I lose that, why, I have 
then no more to go to: but you, Sir, you have a many ideas; 
so that if you were to lose one, you could pick up another by the 
way, and go on with it." By "one idea" he meant the leading 
thought on which he intended to dwell. While the relation 
assists in the illustration of intellectual character, ic shows also 
the desolation which sometimes appeared to himself, occasioned 
• y a want of reading, when he turned hit eve inward, 

F 2 



54 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH, 

middle ranks of life were not at a sufficient remove 
from him to form a contrast, those in the higher walks 
of society were instantly arrested by an undefinable 
something about him, which taught them, that that 
which might not comport with good taste, was, never- 
theless, that which ought to be borne, and by an im- 
pression in his favour, which would instantly compel 
every high-wrought feeling, and all etiquette, to bow 
before the untutored blacksmith, — entering, before he 
was long in their presence, into the real enjoyment of 
his society and conversation, and delightfully embracing 
opportunities for again holding converse with him. To 
persons in the polished circles it was a relief to the 
mind to be with him — one of those novel scenes but oc- 
casionally met with in the landscape of life. Instead of 
the dull, monotonous plain, whose richest garb becomes 
common-place by constantly gazing upon it, in Samuel 
it was like broken rocks, wood and water ; a piece of 
moor land, with patches of rich soil beneath the heath, 
with here and there a flower of surprising beauty 
springing up in the midst of the wilderness scene ; the 
whole contributing to show the effect of grace upon na- 
ture, — and a nature, too, which, without that grace, 
could never have been subdued into any thing like de- 
corum or sobriety. This might appear to some, and 
may not improbably be subjected to the charge, as par- 
taking a little too much of the pencil and colouring of 
the artist ; as permitting, in the real character of ro- 
mance, the imagination to be let loose on a subject 
which ought to command the graver exercise of reason. 
The fact is — for not any thing shall be permitted to 
operate to the suppression of truth, and the Christianity 
of the case has nothing to fear in the way of conse- 
quence — the fact is, that such a man, and such a life, 
might — and it is penned with reverence — might, without 
the aid of imagination, without any art or exaggeration, 
form the ground -work of a lighter exhibition, — say a 
farce, to the awfully solemn and splendid representatioa 



THE VILLAGE ULACKSMITHo 55 

of the Christian Religion. But then, religion had no- 
thing to do in the construction of the man's mind — a 
mind more nearly allied to the comic than the tragic, in 
its operations, and whose effects, though perfectly unde- 
signed on the part of the actor, laid a more powerful 
hold upon the lighter than the graver feelings. Christi- 
anity took the man as it found him, and performed upora 
him its grand work, which is not to change the construe- 
tion of the mind so much as its nature ; to effect, in other 
words, its illumination and renovation: nor is it requi- 
site, to compare temporal things with spiritual, in clean- 
sing a building, to change the position of either a door 
or a window. The grace of God was observed to lay a 
strong hand upon an otherwise untractable nature — 
making light shine into darkness as well as out of it;, 
straightening the crookedness of fallen humanity ; plant- 
ing flowers where nothing but the rankest weeds would 
have grown ; forcing, by an irresistible power, an un- 
taught, and, in some respects though not in the strongest 
sense, an uncouth being upon society, and compelling 
the wisdom, the wealth, the dignity of this world to bow 
before that being, — one who, without the grace of God, 
would have been in danger of being despised ; and yet 
the despisers, through that grace, acknowledging the 
power of the Supreme in a thing of nought. 

This is not a subject slightly to be dismissed. Samuel 
Hick was untaught in the school of this world : art 
would have been lost upon him ; he was one upon whom; 
education and polished society, as already hinted, could' 
never have had their full effect ; he seemed formed by 
nature, as well as designed by Providence, for the 
forge ; and not any thing short of the grace of God 
appears to have been capable of constructing more than; 
a Blacksmith out of the materials of which he was com- 
posed. It was never intended that the hand of a Phidias 
should work upon him, Such was the peculiar vein? 
though excellent in itself, that it would never have paid 
for the labour. No man, with greater self-appropria- 



56 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

tion — not even the apostle himself — could exclaim, 
" By the grace of God I am what I am ;" or with the 
poet, " O, to grace how great a debtor!'' 

Not any thing, however that has been advanced on 
his mental endowments and capabilities, and as applica- 
ble to him as a fallen being, in common with others of 
the same species, is intended in the least to deny him 
the credit of possessing great openness of disposition,, 
and unbounded generosity. The latter was expressed, 
not always gracefully, but honestly and warmly ; and ? 
like the sea-anemone, which feels the first returning 
wave upon the rock, and throws out all its tendrils, his 
tender nature would give forth all its sympathies on the 
slightest intimation of human woe. United to uncom- 
mon tenderness of heart, there was a sincerity and a 
simplicity which no one could resist, which linked him 
to every spirit he came near, and which, while his own 
yearnings led him to weep over distress, to seek it out 
in all its haunts, and to relieve it to the leaving of him- 
self pennyless, ever secured to himself fellow-helpers 
in any projected work of benevolence. And yet, with 
his own bowels of compassion thus yearning over hu- 
man misery — misery both of body and mind — -his eyes 
suffused with tears, and his face beaming with patri- 
archal benevolence, melting the hearts of those that 
stood before him, who mingled their tears with his, — it 
was impossible — such were the out-breakings of intel- 
lect, such the sudden transitions of thought, such his 
similes for illustration, such his peculiar mode of ex- 
pression, his half-solemn, half-comic or undesignedly 
ludicrous representations — it was impossible to suppress 
the smile ; and smiles would have been actually flicker- 
ing, like patches of light, over the same face down 
which the big gushing tears were seen chasing each 
other in rapid succession. Before a few seconds had 
elapsed, all smiles had subsided, and the listener was 
left almost angry with himself for indulging in them, 
when he was aware that the speaker never intended 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 5? 

them to appear in company with tears on such an occa- 
sion and on such a subject ; and still larger tears would 
start — the auditor employed in wiping them away with 
his pocket-handkerchief. 

In preaching, as in conversation, he was never at " one 
stay," in reference to subject ; but ever and anon there 
were fine strokes of wit, touches of keen repartee in his 
addresses to sinners, and occasional beautiful illustrations 
of scripture, turning often upon a single thought capable 
of furnishing hints for superior minds and better thinking, 
not only by being themselves improved in the laboratory 
of the brain, but by leading to another and still nobler 
train of thought, which might ultimately enrich the indi- 
vidual, and which — except for having thus been struck 
out by Samuel, like a spark from his own anvil — would 
never have been elicited by long and previous study. In 
this way inferior minds often become steps by which 
superior intellects attain a higher character of thought. 
To the uninstructed and depressed, his preaching was 
especially adapted ; and by bringing a great deal of what 
was familiar to the lower orders of society into his ad- 
dresses, he was extensively useful in encouraging and 
raising the minds of the humble poor, who could indulge 
with a relish in such food as he had to give, without sa- 
tiety ; when more costly and highly decorated dishes 
would have been much less savoury. Not a few of his 
strokes in the pulpit were as sudden as those which were 
manifested in his regular calling, when sparks as pro- 
fusely seemed to fly all around, warming and enlighten- 
ing, and bidding the profanely heedless stand out of the 
way. 

His language in the pulpit was the same as in social 
life — the broadest, and yet, as has been already intima- 
ted, most closely abbreviated West Yorkshire dialect; 
the former giving a fulness and quaintness to many of his 
intellectual clothings ; and the latter operating, to employ 
a homely simile, like a pair of scissors in the organs of 
speech, clipping a piece from off each word, and not ua-. 



58 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

frequently from the same word at both ends.* This to a 
Yorkshireman, and particularly one of the least educated^ 
gave Samuel an advantage over many of his brethren — 
he always appearing to such an one like an instrument 
in tune : but to another than a Yorkshire ear, the instru- 
ment often gave an " uncertain sound'' — the sense being 
to be gathered, not from detached parts, but from the 
whole ; and as his speech was rather rapid, his preach- 
ing, to persons unacquainted with his provincialisms and 
pronunciation, had the effect o£ a broken English from 
the lips of a foreigner, where attention is constantly kept 
up, in order to come at the sense of the speaker, and 
where the interest continues to heighten in proportion as 
we are let into the meaning of what is heard. To keep 
perfectly grave through one of his pulpit addresses, was 
extremely difficult ; yet the most grave found it impossible 
to be angry, because they saw at once there was no de- 
sign to produce a smile on the part of the speaker, and 
that he seemed unconscious of its presence whde there. 
It resolved itself into a peculiarity rather than a fault — 
an imperfection in the medium of communication, rather 
than a sin, in the first instance, in the man ; and hence 
the line of forbearance — forgiveness being uncalled for 
— ran parallel with the failing or infirmity. 

To advocate, in unqualified terms of approbation, the 

* The writer had it once in contemplation to give the whole of 
Samuel's remarks in the dialect in which he spoke. But though 
this would have given greater prominence to his character, it 
might have diminished the effect which it was otherwise desirable 
to produce. Nor is it necessary for the purposes of accuracy, to 
give a man's pronunciation in the words he employs. Fidelity in 
such a case would be as absurd as unnecessary, since it would 
require every piece of biography to vary according to its subject, 
from the peer to the peasant. An ingenious apology therefore 
might be framed for honest Samuel, from either Walker's or any 
other pronouncing Dictionary, iff which the eye and the ear are 
almost perpetually at variance with each other, in the difference 
which subsists between the spelling and the pronunciation of the 
same word ; and also in the fluctuations in the same language 
among the same people, at different periods of time. 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 159 

establishment of such a style of preaching, would argue 
as little taste, judgment, skill in Christianity, and know, 
ledge of human nature, as it would, in another view of 
the subject, have been criminal to deny such a man 
opportunities of usefulness, since numbers might have 
remained unbenented to the same extent by more highly 
polished instruments. The Divine Being, who found a 
place in the Old Testament Church for the employment 
of one of the Iterdmen of Tekoa, and in the New, for a 
fisherman of Galilee, and a tenUmaker of Tarsus,* has 

* The writer is aware that it was customary for the higher 
ranks in society among the Jews, as well as the poor, to teach 
their children a trade ; it being a maxim among them, that " he 
who teaches not his son a trade, teaches him to be a thief," and 
that one of the Jewish Rabbies was surnamed the Shoe. maker, 
another the Baker, $c. : nor is he less aware that it constituted a 
part of the education of others of the Easterns, and was practised 
down to the time of Sir Paul Ricaut ; the Grand Seignior, to 
whom he was ambassador, having been taught to make wooden 
spoons — taught not only as an amusement, but as necessary to 
support life under adverse circumstances, on any unexpected 
change of fortune : and may be told from hence, that the mechan- 
ical arts thus connecting themselves, not only with rank, but 
with the literature of the times, ought not to be adduced as a 
precedent to support the modern custom of granting mechanics a 
licence to preach the gospel. There are two classes of objectors; 
and those who are not met by one example receive a check from 
another. Some persons contend for a systematic, classical educa- 
tion, and condemn the smallest interference with the arts, as 
though they either lowered the dignity or contaminated the purity 
of the priesthood. Such are referred to the case of St. Paul, 
who, after his consecration to the priest's office, was not ashamed 
to labour with his own hands. The second class of objectors 
include such as would tolerate a literary character, but persist in 
maintaining that the illiterate mechanic has no right to assume 
the office of a Christian teacher. These are directed to the case 
of Peter — Peter, who could never boast of a classical education, 
and yet under the tuition of the Holy Ghost, could speak of 
"unlearned" men wresting the Scriptures to their own destruc- 
tion, establishing by that a claim to another kind of learning from 
that which is taught in our public schools — without which a man 
may be a novice in the things of God, and with which, the unlet- 
tered plebeian rises, in church affairs, superior to the most erudite 



®0 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

certainly not altered the constitution of his Church so 
seriously, as to deny the mechanic an official situation in 
it now ! He who divided public teachers of old into 
different classes, giving " some apostles ; and some pro- 
phels ; and some evangelists ; and some pastors and teach- 
ers" — not despising the humbler office of an exhorter — 
does not now surely find human nature in such a delight- 
fully improved state, as to render exhortation useless? 
He who required the use of from one to ten talents, in 
the days of his flesh, does not find the highest number 
multiplying so fast, certainly, that he cannot in the order 
of his providence, and in the government of his Church, 
furnish employment to persons possessed of only one or 
two ? Such a ministry owned of God — and he has deign- 
ed to own it — ought to be borne by the more highly gifted 
and cultivated, for the sake of the poor, to thousands of 
whom the preaching of the Village Blacksmith, and 

who is otherwise unschooled in the experimental verities of 
Christianity. It is not a little singular, that among some of the 
persons who object to receive instruction from the lips of a poor 
mechanic, there are those who can see no impropriety in a cler- 
gyman attending to his glebe through the week. In " A charge 
delivered to the Clergy of the Deaneries of Richmond and Cat- 
terick, within the Diocese of Chester, on Thursday, July 4, 1816, 
by John Headlam, a.m., Rector of Wycliffe, and Deputy Commis. 
sary of the Archdeaconry of Richmond," agricultural pursuits 
are highly recommended to the clergy. Since then, Mr. Headlam 
has been elevated to the dignity of an Archdeacon, and one of the 
clerical agriculturalists in the neighbourhood died in a state of 
insolvency. This case — should a second edition of the Sermon 
be demanded, should lead Mr. Headlam to reconsider the para- 
graph in which the advice is given. Though such failure might 
be urged as a caution against ministers already set apart for the 
sacred office entering into the business of the world, who possess 
a competency of personal property, or are otherwise respectably 
supported by their separate charges, or as by law established ; it 
could not be so successfully urged against men already engaged 
in commercial pursuits — who, from various causes, may be pre- 
vented from devoting themselves exclusively to the work — who 
toil, like Samuel Hick, without salary — and who have no other 
way of supporting themselves and their families, but by manual 
vor other labour. 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 61 

others as unlettered as himself, has been of essential 
service. It may occasionally produce the hlush of learn- 
ing ; but in doing this, piety, at the same moment, is 
perhaps compelled to blush at the very life which some 
of the literati lead ; and thus blushes are blushed at in 
their turn ; for what in the one is criminal, in the other 
is an infirmity ; and to see such as in the eye of learning 
appear halt, and maimed, and infirm, rise in arms against 
the common enemy of man, argues, at least, as in civil 
affairs, a nobler public spirit — a higher degree of patriot- 
ism — than is possessed by persons of superior ability, who 
remain inactive, and who ought to be led on by a sense 
of duty to labour for the public good. The moment it 
is established as a truth, that " God hath" not " chosen 
the foolish things of the world to confound the wise, and 
the weak things of the world to confound the things 
which are mighty ;" that very moment a substantial plea 
is instituted against the preaching of Samuel Hick, 



G 



€2 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 



CHAPTER V. 

*Sfis diligence... the light in which he beheld mankind. ..the substance of a 
conversation held with Earl Mexborough. . .Samuel's circumscribed know- 
ledge in natural history. ..his views of the Bible. ..proofs in favour of the 
doctrine of future rewards and punishments. . .his visit to the seat of Earl 
Mexborough. . .a point of conscience. . .a painting. . .fidelity in reproving sin, 
at the hazard of being injured in his trade... the millenium dexterously 
hitched in, as a check to pleasure takers... three hunting ecclesiastics ren- 
dered the subject of merriment among the titled laity. . -ministerial fruit a 
proof of the power of truth, not of a call to preach it. . .Samuel's more 
extended labours, privations, persecutions. ..a poor widow... a conquest 
over bigotry at Ledsham. 

Being now recognised as a regular local preacher, Sam- 
uel conscientiously attended to his various appointments, 
though he was far from parsimoniously confining himself 
to them, as if duty proceeded no further than the limits 
prescribed to him by his brethren. His zeal was not to 
be bounded by the appointments of a plan. He observed 
his appointments as he did his regular seasons for private 
prayer — as duties to be performed — not to be neglected 
but with peril — and attended to with delight ; but extra 
work was like a special season for retirement — something 
out of the regular track — and was enjoyed by him as 
children revel in the enjoyment of a holiday. In the 
Church of Rome he would have had the credit of being 
wealthy in works of supererogation. He imitated, on a 
minature scale, the great apostle of the Gentiles, and 
was " in labours more abundant :" and why ? He was 
in his Master's work, as St. John was in his Lord's sab- 
bath — " in the Spirit ;" and in the spirit of the thing itself 
too, he was always found. 

His zeal, however, as has already appeared, was not 
a mere crackling blaze in the pulpit. His workshop was 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 6& 

his chapel, and many were the homilies which he deliv- 
ered over the anvil and over the vice,, to both rich and 
poor. In this he was no respecter of persons. He 
looked upon every human being as possessed of an im- 
mortal spirit — depraved by nature — redeemed by Christ 
— within the reach of mercy — and himself as accountable 
to God for the improvement or non-improvement of op- 
portunities of usefulness to them : and hence, to repeat 
his own language, he " was always at them," because 
always yearning over them in melting compassion. Ad- 
verting to the more early part of his history, he observes^ 
" At this time I feared no man, but laved all ; for I wanted 
all to--enjoy what I felt. I remember Lord Mexborough 
calling at my shop one day, to get his horse shod. The 
horse was a fine ammaK I had to back him into the 
smithy. I told his lordship that he was more highly fa- 
voured than our Saviour, for he had only an ass to ride 
on, when he was upon earth." The Earl suspecting 
that Samuel was not very well instructed in natural his- 
tory, replied, " In the country where our Saviour was 
born, the people had rarely any thing but asses to ride 
upon ; and many of them were among the finest animals 
under heaven, standing from sixteen to seventeen hands 
high." This information was new ; and as grateful ap- 
parently for the improved condition of his divine Master,, 
as for an increase of knowledge, Samuel exclaimed, 
" Bless the Lord ! I am glad to hear that : I thought they 
were like the asses in our own country." Samuel's sim- 
plicity might excite a smile ; but there were other biblical 
subjects which gave him a superiority over many of his 
more learned fellow creatures. The bible was better 
known by him as a revelation of God, on subjects of a 
spiritual and experimental nature, than as a historical 
record.* 

* It is stated that Dr. Doddridge, while engaged with his Ex- 
positor, was in the habit of consulting one of the old members of 
his church on those texts of Scripture which contain in them the* 
heights and depths of Christian experience — conduct equally com. 



64 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

While Samuel was engaged with the horse, the Earl, 
says he, " sat down on the steady clog," and with great 
condescension and familiarity, entered into conversation 
with him. " I am inclined to think, my good man," said 
the noble visitant, " that you know something of futurity. 
Pray, what becomes of the soul when it leaves the body ?" 
As Samuel had no doubt of the divine authority of the 
Scriptures himself, he took it for granted — more from 
the strength of his own faith, than presuming upon it out 
of courtesy, as St. Paul might have done in the case of 
Agrippa, when there was no evidence to the contrary — 
that the Earl was also a believer in their truth, and pro- 
ceeded to state, that, in the times of old, " there^Vas a 
certain rich man, which was clothed in purple and fine 
linen, and fared sumptuously every day-^-that this man 
died, and was buried — that, though the body was com- 
mitted to the dust, the soul was sent to hell — that both 
would remain till the morning of the resurrection — and 
that, at that period,. the body and the soul, which had 
shared in each other's wickedness, should also share in 
the miseries of the damned, and the smoke of their tor- 
ments would ascend for ever and ever : — that there was 
likewise a poor man, named Lazarus, which was laid at 
the rich man's gate, full of sores — that he died too — 
that angels carried his soul to Abraham's bosom — that 
the soul would remain there till the great archangel's 
trumpet should sound, when rich and poor, small and 
great, should stand before God — and that the soul and 

plimentary to the Dr.'s condescension and the venerable man's 
piety. The Dr., though a pious man himself, knew that experi- 
mental religion was progressive in its character and operations, 
and beheld his hoary auditor as having many years the advance of 
him — beheld him like mellow fruit, ready to drop off, or to be 
plucked for heaven. He was aware that he himself wanted age 
and sunning for several passages ; and although he brought all the 
experience he possessed to bear upon them, he suspected there 
was still something beyond. To his own head, he required the 
advantage of the old man's heart: and united, knowledge and 
experience tell upon the understandings and affections of others. 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 65 

body which shared in each other's sufferings upon earth, 
would share in each other's joys in heaven." It never 
entered into Samuel's mind to enquire whether the nar- 
rative came in the shape of a history, or of a 'parable ; 
and neither was it indeed necessary to his purpose, as 
parable is the representation of truth — truth in the spirit^ 
though not in the letter : nor had he any thing else in 
view — unless it were that of making the subject speak 
through the ""richflfcian" to his noble auditor — than to 
establish, in the best way he was able, the existence of 
the soul, and the doctrine of future rewards and punish- 
ments. If the character before him had been such as 
to have admitted an approach to the probationary cha- 
racter of the " rich man," a thorough knowledge of Sam- 
uel's intellectual powers would at once have destroyed 
the supposition of any thing like design to institute a 
parallelism : and yet, there were few subjects — consid- 
ering his own piety and station in society, and the ex- 
alted rank of the interrogator — more calculated to fix 
attention, or that could better afford ground for reflection 
and inference. The Earl remarked that he was of the 
same opinion with Samuel himself on the subject of a 
future state, and wished the whole world possessed the 
same faith. 

Having thus received a little encouragement, Samuel 
proceeded to shew that something more was implied in 
faith, than a bare assent to the doctrines of the Bible ; 
and to guard the Earl against any error, gave him art 
account of his experience, which was as artless in its 
design and detail, as that of St. Paul's was seasonable in 
the presence of Agrippa. In evidence that it was taken 
in good feeling, "he stopped," says Samuel, "till I 
related it, and gave me half-a-crown for preaching this 
short sermon to him." 

Not long after this, he was planned to preach at 
Methley, and had some of the servants of the same no- 
bleman for his hearers, to one of whom, a female, he 
was uncle. Partly out of respect to Samuel, and partly 

g2 



66 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

to his niece, the servants united in inviting him to spend 
the evening with them at the Hall. But, before he 
could comply with the request, he had a piece of casu- 
istry to settle with his own conscience. The Earl and 
the family were in the metropolis, and he could not 
conceive how he could live at the noble proprietor's 
expense, without his consent, and remain \ guiltless. 
This point was soon disposed of, by the servants inform- 
ing him, that, during the absence M the family, they 
were " living at board wages." " When I knew that 
they could keep me at their own expense," he observes, 
" I went with them, and stopped all night." This was 
one of those punctilious movements in social life which 
would have escaped the notice of multitudes, but upon 
which the eye of an enlightened conscience — the guar- 
dian of property — instantly flashed, and through which 
the Christian was commanded to pause and inquire be- 
fore he advanced. In the course of the next morning 
Samuel was shown through the rooms ; but, of all that 
he saw, not any thing attracted his attention or made an 
impression equal to a painting of Joseph and Mary, the 
latter of whom was placed upon an ass, with the infant 
Jesus. He instantly recollected his conversation with 
the noble owner of the mansion, and knowing little of 
books, very innocently, and not unnaturally for a person 
of his cultivation, considered this painting as the source 
from whence the Earl derived his knowledge. " It 
was one of the finest creatures," says he, " I ever saw ; 
and I thought my lord had got his information from it." 
Then, instead of indulging in what was passing before 
the eye, he breaks away in a tangent, and shows where 
his heart is, by adding in the next sentence, — " I am 
informed that his lordship has family prayer morning 
and evening ; and I fully believe that if Christians of 
all denominations were faithful to the grace given, both 
rich and poor would be saved. I am privileged with 
getting into the company of gentlemen, and I never let 
these opportunities slip. I consider it a privilege to 
speak a word for my Master, whom I so dearly love. 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 67 

It will be easy to perceive, that his association with 
persons of distinguished rank only extended to transac- 
tions in business, and that not any thing more than this 
is intended by himself; a circumstance which tends not 
a little to elevate his piety above all earthly considera- 
tions, as many in a similar situation to himself would 
have shrunk from the discharge of what appeared to him 
to be a Christian duty, from a dread of suffering in busi- 
ness by giving offence to their employers. An instance 
of his fidelity in this respect — and by no means a soli- 
tary one — was exemplified in his conduct towards Mr. 
Wh — t — n,* whose horse had lost a shoe in the heat of 
the chase. Having had the horse in the hands of ano- 
ther blacksmith only the day before, and being inter- 
rupted in his enjoyments, he swore at the man for hav- 
ing, as he supposed, put on the shoe so carelessly. 
. Samuel turned to the Esquire, and, without further cere- 
mony, told him, that he paid the rent of his shop ; that 
while it was in his hand he would not suffer any man to 
take the name of God in vain within its walls ; and that 
if he persisted in swearing he would not set the shoe 
on. He availed himself of the gentleman's anxiety to 
return to the field, and the gentleman knowing that his 
enjoyment depended solely on his attention to the pro- 
hibition which had just been issued, very prudently de- 
sisted. The compassion of Samuel was excited both 
for the horse and for the rider. " The poor animal," 
says he, " could scarcely stand till I set the shoe on ; 
and while I was shoeing him, I began to preach, and 
SLiid, ' It is a pity, Sir, that these good creatuaes should 
ever be abused.' ' Mr. W., passing over the rebuke 
he had received for swearing, and rinding, as he be- 
lieved, the ground on which he stood as a hunter some- 

* The widow and family of this gentleman resided at Aberford. 
Speaking of the lady, " Samuel," says Mr. Dawson, "stood very 
high in her estimation. He had full liberty to inform her of any 
case of distress which came under his observation ; and on infor- 
mation being given, he was frequently made her almoner." 



68 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

what more tenable than that on which he stood as a 
swearer, replied, " The dogs were made on purpose to 
hunt the fox, and the horse to follow the dogs." " God," 
said Samuel, who felt that the honour of his Maker was 
interested, — a God was never the author of sin. He 
sent these creatures for the use of man, not to be abused 
by him. But the time will come, Sir, when the hounds 
will not run after the foxes." Mr. W.,« either not ap- 
prehending his meaning, or disposed to amuse himself 
with the reply, asked, " Do you really think that such 
a time will ever arrive ?" " Yes, Sir," returned Samuel : 
" It will come as sure as God made the world ; for he 
has prophesied that the lion shall lie down with the 
lamb, and that all flesh shall know him, from the least 
to the greatest." The shoe having been replaced, a 
period was put to the conversation, when Mr. W. very 
pleasantly tendered him some silver, which he refused 
to accept, saying, " I only charge a poor man twopence, 
and I shall charge you, Sir, no more." The difference 
which Samuel observed between Earl Mexborough and 
Mr. W., — (having accepted silver from the former for 
a similar office, and declined receiving it from the latter) 
— shows the acuteness and discrimination occasionally 
manifested by him. " Did he," said Samuel to the bi« 
ograper, some years after, when relating the circum- 
stance in reference to Mr. W., " Did he think that I 
was going to give up my chance at him for half-a- 
crown ?" — thus renouncing every thing which, in his 
estimation, was calculated to deprive him of the privilege 
of freedom of remark and rebuke, — though undoubtedly 
erroneous in the supposition that Mr. W. had any need 
to have recourse to the gift as a bribe. Mr. W. soon 
remounted, and set off to pursue the chase. On his 
return, he pointed Samuel out to the party that accom- 
panied him, as he passed the shop, and entertained them 
with his notions of the Millennium. A few days after, 
Mr. W., on again passing the shop on his way to the 
field, endeavoured to divert himself at Samuel's ex- 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 69 

pense, by asking with some degree of pleasantry, — 
" Well, do you think the dogs will run the foxes to. 
day?" " O yes, Sir," replied Samuel, with unexpected 
smartness, " the Jews are not brought in yet." Mr- 
W. seemed to have possessed as much Millennial know, 
ledge as enabled him to comprehend Samuel's meaning, 
and rode off like a person who had been shot at by the 
archers. 

He was pretty generally known by the sportsmen of 
the neighbourhood, and few of them, though partly de- 
pendent upon them for employment, remained unre- 
proved by him. Earl C — -th — t was one, amongst others, 
who had felt the force of some of his sayings, and who 
enjoyed their effects upon others. The Earl had an 
opportunity of this kind furnished, when several gentle- 
men were waiting one morning for the honnds. " They 
met anent (opposite) my shop," says Samuel, " and 
stopped till the hounds came." Among the party were 

the Hon. C. C , vicar of K , the Earl's brother 

the Rev. W. rector of G ; the late Rev. C 

vicar of A — — ; and Dr. E , who followed the me 

dical profession at K . " It came into my mind,' 

continues Samuel, " that the three clergymen had no 
business there." Flis movements generally correspond- 
ing with the rapidity of bis thoughts, he instantly 
" threw down the hammer and the tongs," darted out of 
the . shop door, like an animal from a thicket of under- 
wood, and appeared in the midst of them with his shirt- 
sleeves tucked up, his apron on, his face and hands par- 
taking of the hue of his employment — as fine game, in 
the estimation of some of them, to occupy the lingering 
moments, tiil other game should be started, as any that 
could presenl itself in human shape. " Most of them," 
says he, " knew me. I said to them — Gentlemen, this 
is one of the finest hunts in the district. You are fa- 
voured with two particular privileges ; and they are pri- 
vileges which other districts have not." This excited 
curiosity, which was as quickly 'gratified ; for the in- 



70 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

quiry relative to "privileges" was no sooner proposed 
than the answer was given — " If any of you should 
happen to slip the saddle, and get a fall, you have a 
doctor to bleed you, and three parsons'to pray for you : ■ 
and what are these but privileges ! Three pahsoxs ! 
O yes, there they are."* The odd association produced 
in the minds of some of the gentlemen, between hunting 
and devotion — the huntsman's shout and the clergyman's 
prayer, the inconsistency of which not a few had light 
sufficient to perceive, and of which, by the way, we are 
furnished with a somewhat similar ridiculous appear- 
tince in some of our cathedrals and churches, where 
'some of the ancient knights, not very remark r-ble for 
prayer during life, are represented as praying in marble, 
i>ooted and spurred, clad in armour, with uplifted hands, 
about to rise to the victor's heaven, of which — abstract- 
edly considered — the Bible knows as much as that of 
the hunter's ; — this odd association operated powerfully 
upon the risible faculties, and turned the laugh upon the 
clergymen, who, in the language of Samuel, " lowered 
their heads, and never spoke a word in their own de- 
fence/' though forward enough at other times, and with 

* The three Reverend Gentlemen were not equally implicated 
in an adherence to the chase. With one — the first — it had become 
a passion; and though possessed of other good qualities, especially 
benevolence to the poor, yet — so much did the turf engross his 
attention — that he thought very little of setting off for Doncaster 
and PontefraCt races after service was over on a Sunday. The 
second was not remarkable for following the foxhounds, and is 
supposed to have proceeded little further than that of attending 
to see them " throw off." Greyhound coursing was less objec- 
tionable, as being less hazardous. The third, the late Mr. C, 
like the first, was a genuine lover of the sports of the field. He 
received, however, what would have been sufficient as a rebuke 
for others, before he left the world to give an account of his apos. 
tleship. On a shooting excursion, his dogs, as usual — having 
been well trained — set some partridges; the birds started, and flew 
over a hedge, behind which his servant was standing; he fired:-- 
whether or not he winged a bird, is not for the writer to state, but 
it is well known that he killed his servant. 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 71 

open front too, to condemn him for occupying any share 
of the priest's office. But right and truth give one man 
an amazing advantage over another : Guilt stands 
abashed in the presence of innocence ; a child, under 
peculiar circumstances, becomes a Hercules, and wields 
truth, though in irony, like Elijah, with all the power of 
the imaginary deity's club. Towards one of the divines 
Samuel experienced an unusual leaning of spirit; for he 

states, that it was " under Mr. C , of A— — , that" 

his " dear mother was converted to God, in A — b — d 
church. The word preached." he proceeds, " proved 
the power of God to her soul's salvation. She died 
happy in God. I do not know that she ever heard a 
Methodist sermon in her life."* 

Many of the circuits continued very extensive long 

* To argue from hence, that a Christian minister is at liberty to 
pursue what line of conduct he pleases, because the Divine Being 
may vouchsafe to honour his ministry with success, as though he 
thereby sanctioned the proceedings of the man, would be absurd. 
Truth and the medium of its conveyance, are two distinct things 
— as much so as the water and the conduit through which it passes ; 
nor are any of the cieansing effects or refreshing qualities of the 
water to be attributed to the instrument of communication, as any 
, other medium of conveyance, whether of wood, lead, or silver, 
would have equally served the purpose, and the effects had been 
produced as easily without as with the one employed. This may 
be carried even a little further; for it would be no difficult matter 
to prove, that ministerial fruit is not an exclusive proof of a call 
to the ministry. Open this door, and the greatest latitude is 
given to female preaching. Fruit, independent of other evi- 
dence, is only u proof of the power of truth, not a call to 
preach it, Truth belongs to God, and he will honour his own 
truth whoever may be the instrument employed to deliver it. 
Should the instrument himself be unconverted, he will receive 
the honour which the scaffolding receives from the builder, when 
it has served his purpose, in contributing its share to the comple- 
tion of the erection — be thrown aside as constituting no part of 
the goodly edifice. This is not intended to apply to the clergy- 
man in question, however much out of place in the field, but to 
protect the simple hearted from deducing false inferences from 
apparently legitimate, *but f in point of fact, otherwise false pre- 
mises. 



72 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

after Samuel was admitted on the local preachers' plan, 
and such were his " outgoings," occasioned by the ar- 
dour of his zeal, that a horse became absolutely neces- 
sary, in order to enable him to accomplish his " labours 
of love." As an exemplification of part of his toil and 
of his treatment, he observes, " In those days there were 
not many noble, not many rich called. For my own 
part, I have travelled many scores of miles, and neither 
tasted meat nor drink till I got home [in the evening.] 
I have very often had snow-balls thrown at me, and been 
abused by the enemies of the cross of Christ : I have 
been turned out of places where I have been preaching, 
by the clergy and the magistrates: but, bless the Lord, 
I have lived to see better days." After noticing the 
cessation of persecution, he again, by a sudden transition 
of thought, turns to his favourite subject — the grand 
Millennium, which appears like a vision breaking upon 
his " gifted sight," and " more golden bright than the 
rich morn on Carmel," — a vision often repeated, in 
which there was to him, in the language of the poet, 
" a mingling of all glorious forms" — of " angels riding 
upon cloudy thrones, and saints marching all abroad 
like crowned s conquerors :" nor had the fair poetical 
Jewess, so finely portrayed by Milman, in his " Fall of 
Jerusalem," more delightful visions, when " nightly vi- 
sitations" poured over her mind, " like the restless 
waters of some pure cataract in the noontide sun," than 
had Samuel Hick of " the latter day glory," towards 
which he was constantly turning, like the sun-flower 
towards the orb of day, and in the splendours of which 
he was constantly basking and brightening. 

Whatever might have been the length of the jour- 
ney, and whatever the fare with which he was treated, 
the spirit of Samuel remained unbroken, his gratitude 
unabated, He had bread to eat of which the world had 
no knowledge ; the religion of the soul appeared to bear 
up the animal frame, and to render it frequently insen- 
sible to pain, and want, and toil. The hut afforded him 



liiE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 73 

higher entertainment than the dwellings of the wealthy. 
The following relation furnishes an insight into his 
spirit. " I remember," says he, " I was planned to 
preach at Bemsworth* once, and being a stranger in the 
town,- I enquired where the Methodist preachers put up 
their horses. I was informed that there was not any 
body in the place that would take them iii ; but that a 
poor man received them at the common side. I went 
to my inn, and found a place to put up my horse, which 
they had built on purpose for the preachers' horses. 
When I got into the house, I soon found that the poor 
people had Jesus Christ with them. They were glad 
to see me, and to receive both me and my horse. These 
dear friends had a great many enemies, because of their 
taking in the preachers. The people who had supplied 
them with milk refused to let them have any more ; and 
the publicans would not let them have yeast for their 
bread. They were also in a strait for food for the 
preachers' horses. The poor woman begged a few land 
ends of grass, got it dried, and preserved it ; and she 
gleaned a little corn in the fields. She made us very 
comfortable. Some time after this, I was again planned 
for the same place. The Lord had opened the hearts 
of some of the farmers, and they opened their houses ; 
but I went to my old inn at the common side. The 
woman cried for joy to see me. She said she was sorely 
troubled, because the preachers had left her house : but 
I told her not to be troubled about it — that she would 
get her reward for her labour of love. I went to the 
same place about thirty years after this, and found the 
same widow. She was very happy in her soul. We 
see that the Lord is as good as his promise, ' Them that 

* In 1811 and 1812, when the writer was in the habit of visit- 
ing the village, in which there was then a neat Wesleyan Chapel, 
it was in the Barnsley Circuit. At the period referred to by 
Samuel, it was probably connected with Leeds, Wakefield, or 
Pontefract. It is about six miles from Pontefract, and fifteen 
from Micklcfield, 

H 



14 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH, 

honour me I will honour' — ' With long life will I satisfy 5 
them, 'and shew' them 'my salvation.' She was very 
glad to see me ; and I told her that I would put her into- 
my life for a memorial of her love to the preachers and 
their beasts. It was like the widow's mite." 

The simplicity of the man is at once seen, in telling 
the aged matron that she should occupy a place in the 
memoir of his life ; and that he intended nothing more 
in what he termed his " Life," than to shew forth the 
goodness of God to himself and others, will readily be 
credited : nor shall his innocent intentions, though bor- 
dering upon the childishness of simplicity, in reference 
to the poor widow, cease to be fulfilled to the very letter. 
" Ruth the Moabitess" did not cleave closer to " God" 
and his "people ," than did this poor woman ; nor did the 
young widow appear more interesting to Boaz among 
the " reapers," than did this gleaner in the cornfields ta 
Samuel Hick. He however, in consoling her for the 
loss of the preachers, seemed to be unaware that he was 
furnishing a substantial reason, in his notice of some of 
the farmers having " opened their houses," why they 
s\\ould take up their abode elsewhere ; a point upon 
-which many would have fastened, and would from 
thence have argued the propriety of relieving her of 
a burden — though deemed by her a privation — which 
she had so long and so nobly borne, and which others* 
now mado willing in the day of gospel power, were 
equally ready, and much more able to bear than herself. 
For, complimentary as it had been for a poor widow, 
like her of Zarephath, whose " cake" and " cruse" 
never failed to supply the wants of the prophets of the 
Lord, it would have reflected little honour on the more 
wealthy, to have looked on with a stupid indifference, 
and to have permitted its continuance. Some of the 
very first expressions uttered by the new-horn soul are, 
"What shall we do?" These are the mere nursery 
expressions of the babe, in reference to the cause of 
God. Some persons, it is true, — not very remarkable 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 75. 

for self-denial, or turning the good things of this life 
aside when within their reach, — would have availed 
themselves of the opportunity of exuding a little bad 
feeling, by insinuating that the preachers were a ways 
on the alert to better their condition. But the very fact 
•of their having stooped so long to lodge in the hovel, of 
their readiness to accommodate themselves to any fare, 
however scanty, and to any situation, however humble, 
while labouring to promote the happiness of their fellow 
creatures, shews that they carried about with them the 
spirit of self-denial, and have it yet at hand, whenever 
Providence open^the door and bids them enter: and 
the wailings of the widow for their loss, are evidence of 
their worth ; for, having been cheered by their pres- 
ence, their advice, and their prayers, on the social 
hearth-stone, she sighed and wept at their removal; 
and sighed the more, as she valued their society. 

Samuel took his own way of consoling her, and 
directed her attention to the "recompense of reward" 
for what she had done. And it was here, both as to 
subject and place, that he was in his element. To 
behold him thus, in one of his happiest moods, the 
reader has only to sketch a thatched cottage, tottering, 
like its inmate, with age ; its whitewashed wails and 
mud floor ; a few homely pieces of furniture, impaired 
by long-continued use ; Samuel himself seated upon 
the remains of an old -oaken chair, on the opposite side 
of the fire to the good old woman ; tlmre talking of the 
joys of the heaven to which they were both hastening, 
throwing a beam of sunshine into the heart of her with 
whom he conversed, and which seemed dead within 
her, till he stirred it into life. Now he crouched for- 
wards, with the crown of his head towards the fire — his 
eyes fixed upon the ground — his elbows occasionally 
supported by his knees — the palms of his hands turned 
upwards — his thumbs and fore-fingers in constant mo- 
tion, as though he were in the act of rubbing some fine 
powder between them, in order to ascertain the quality ; 



76 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

or like some of our elderly matrons at the distaff, twist- 
ing the fibres of the flax into a thread — dropping for a 
moment the conversation— next chiming in with a few 
notes of praise — again taking up the theme of Christ 
and future glory — his face meanwhile glistening 
through the rising emotions of his soul — his hands now 
gliding into quicker action — the fountains of the beating 
heart breaking up — till at length, elevating his frame, 
and with his eyes brimming with tears, he seems to 
throw, by a single glance, all the tenderness of his soul 
into the bosom of the object of his solicitude, which at 
once softens, animates, and transfiites the eye of the 
beholder in grateful return upon himself for the conver- 
sational benefits thus conferred. 

One of the cases to which Samuel refers, when he 
states he had been " turned out of places by the cler* 
gy," occurred in his own neighbourhood. On the 
death of Lady Betty Hastings, and the termination of 
the Rev. W. Sellon's labours at Ledsham, the living 
was given to a young clergyman, in a delicate state of 
health, who came from London to take possession, and 
who, in his first sermon, made a warm attack upon en- 
thusiasm, and denied the influences of the Holy Ghost, 
stating, that there had been no such thing as inspiration 
in the world since the apostolic age. To this he might 
have been led, from a persuasion that the people had 
been deluded into the belief of such things through the 
mistaken piety, as he supposed, of her ladyship, and the 
preaching of his predecessors. But while thus pro- 
claiming his own nakedness of soul, of every hallowed 
influence, the poor people, " clothed with the Spirit of 
holiness," were better instructed, and instead of being 
satisfied with this collegian, sent for the " Village 
Blacksmith," to build them up in the faith of Christ.* 

* The people's choice, in this case, must remind those who 
are acquainted with the facts, of Mr. Baxter's account, in the 
preface to his Disputations, p. 188-7, of the election of Alexander. 
When Gregory conferred with the church respecting the choice 



We village blacksmith. 7? 

Samuel yielded to their entreaties ; but found it difficult 
to obtain a house to preach in, as nearly every house 
was under clerical influence, and those who sent for 
him were afraid of incurring the clergyman's displea- 
sure. A good woman at length obtained the consent of 
her husband to lend their house for the occasion, indif- 
ferent to consequences. A congregation was soon as- 
sembled, and Samuel commenced with singing and 
prayer. During the second hymn, a noise was heard 
at the door, when Samuel left his stand, and went to 
enquire into the cause. He was met at the entrance 
by the clergyman, accompanied by another gentleman,, 
to whom he announced himself as the preacher. 



of a pastor, several of the people were for having a man of rank 
and splendid abilities; but recollecting that the prophet anointed 
David, a shepherd, to be king over Israel, he requested them to 
look among the lower orders of society, and to see whether a 
person could not be found, possessed of piety and ministerial 
qualifications. This was received with indignation by several 
of the inhabitants of Coinana; and one lofty spirited gentleman, 
whose views as little accorded with those of Gregory, as they 
would have done with those of the little Christian flock at Leds- 
ham, in after ages, told the worthy bishop, by way of derision, 
that if he wished them to take a person from the scum of the 
people, they might as well select Alexander the collier from their 
ranks. Gregory took the hint, and sent for Alexander, who 
appeared before them, ragged in his apparel, and besmeared, like 
Samuel, with the filth of his employment, exciting the laughter 
of the less sedate among the assembly. The bishop soon peT- 
-ceived him to be a man of both talent and piety ; and after with, 
drawing with him, and instructing him how to act, returned to 
the assembly-, and delivered a discourse on the nature of the 
pastoral office. It was not long before Alexander, who was a 
comely-looking man, was again presented to the brethren, washed, 
and attired in the canonicals of the episcopal order, and was 
chosen — collier as he had been, bishop of Comana, with only one 
dissenting voice! Though there is no doubt, that Alexander was 
by far Samuel's superior in point of intellect, yet the coal, the 
smoke, and the soot, had an amazing influence on the more 
elegant in both cases; and the Wesleyan body was as great a help 
to the latter, as Gregory was to the former. 

H2 



78 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

Clergyman, "We want none of your preaching here, 
and are resolved not to have it." 

Samuel. " Sir, I preached the gospel here before you 
were born, and I will live to preach it when you are 
gone." 

Cler. " I tell you, I will not suffer you to preach 
here. This house is my property." 

Sam, " Why, Sir, you do not preach the gospel to 
the people, for you deny inspiration ; and no man can 
preach it but by inspiration of the Spirit of God." 

Cler. " I discharge you from preaching in this 
house." 

To this authority Samuel reluctantly submitted, as it 
would have been imprudent to encourage the occupants 
to persist in resisting their landlord : the people were 
therefore dismissed. The clergyman, however, mis- 
took his opponent, if he concluded that the field was his 
own ; for though the preacher was driven from the 
house* he was not driven from his purpose. On return- 
ing home, he wrote a long, faithful letter to the rever- 
end gentleman ; informing him, in connexion with the 
admonitions sent, that on the following Sabbath, he 
should again visit Ledsham — occupy a piece of waste 
land in the village, to which he could lay no claim, as 
it belonged to the Lord of the Manor-*— and should 
there, in his own cart, preach to the people ; giving him 
an invitation at the same time to attend, and to correct 
him in any thing he might advance contrary to the 
Scriptures or the Book of Common Prayer. As he 
made no secret of either his letter or his intentions, the 
report of his visit to Ledsham, in defiance of the newly 
inducted minister, soon spread among the neighbouring 
villagers. The day arrived — the people flocked to the 
place from a circle of some miles. Samuel, after un- 
yoking his horse, appeared in his cart, occupying it as 
a pulpit for the occasion, accompanied by four local 
preachers — the air rang with the song of praise — and a 
gracious influence attended the word. The clergyman 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 79 

and his lady stood ar a distance hearkening to what was 
said. Samuel, towards the close, told them that he 
loved the church, and hoped, that " as soon as the 
bells" gave " over tinkling" they would accompany 
him, and join in its service. " We all went," he ob- 
served, "and I never saw a church so full in my life. 
The aisles, the communion-place, and bell-house, were 
all crammed full. What was best of all, the clerk was 
on our side, and gave out a hymn tune. Such glorious 
music I never heard in a church before. The parson, 
poor young man ! was overfaced with us, and could not 
preach ; so that he had to employ another person." As 
a substitute is not so easily obtained, in an emergency 
of this kind, in the Establishment as among the Dissent- 
ers, it is probable that the person was prepared for the 
duties of the day, independent of this circumstance, and 
that Samuel attributed to the congregation, that which 
originated in indisposition. This is the more likely, 
from what Samuel adds ; — " The poor young man went 
off to London next morning, where he died, and was 
brought back to be buried about six months after. " 
This fact, taken in connexion with Samuel's declara- 
tion, "I preached the gospel here before you were 
born, and will live to preach it when you are gone," 
falls upon the heart with peculiar solemnity. It ought 
not to be omitted, that the clergyman beckoned the 
churchwarden to him after the service, and stated that 
he had enquired into the character of the old blacksmith 
— found that he was a very good man — and wished him 
to be informed from himself, that he might preach m 
the village whenever he judged proper. 



80 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH* 



CHAPTER IV. 

His qualifications for soliciting pecuniary aid- ..an unsuccessful application to ?i 
clergyman. . .relieves his circuit from a debt of seventy pounds. . .his anxiety 
to obtain a chape! at Aberford...a miser, and his manner of addressing 
him... a chapel erected. . contests with different avaricious characters... 
a visit to Rochdale. . . administers seasonable relief to a preacher's family . . . 
his scriptural views of charity. . .supplies a poor family with coals. . .regales 
part of a company of soldiers on a forced march... an amusing domestic 
scene. . .visitation of the sick. . .gives up the use of tobacco from principle. . . 
his indisposition, and inattention to the advice of his medical attendant... 
the good effects of his state of mind upon others. ..raises a subscription fo*- a 
poor man... relieves a poor female... his love to the missionary cause.. ~ 
origin of missionary meetings among the Wesleyans. 

Such was the native restlessness of Samuel's character, 
that, like quicksilver, the slightest impulse propelled 
and continued him in motion. With the exception of 
sleep, or the utter exhaustion of his physical powers, 
he scarcely knew a pause in the work of €k>d. This 
promptitude to be serviceable to others, the general 
esteem in which he was held, together with a peculiar 
fitness for benevolent enterprize — the latter of which 
was founded on his own generosity — his simplicity of 
manners, a certain straightforwardness, which knew no 
fear, and saw no difficulties, rendered him a desirable 
person to engage in any purpose of soliciting pecuniary 
aid. Accordingly, he was selected by a committee 
formed for the occasion, and was commissioned to go 
through the circuit in which he resided, to collect 
subscriptions, in order to relieve it from its financial 
embarrassments. Clothed with proper authority, and 
furnished with a book in which to enter the names of 
his subscribers, be went forth with the freshness and 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 81 

spirit of the husbandman entering for the first time in 
the season into the harvest-field. He saw the fields 
white, and in his view had nothing to do but put in the 
sickle. He found few obstructions; and among those 
few — created, by the way, by his own imprudence — he 
records one which may be considered more amusing 
than vexatious. 

"I went to Ricall," says he; " and as I purposed 
going to all the houses in the town, I thought there 
would be no harm in calling upon the church clergy- 
man. I did so ; and found him in his garden. I pre- 
sented my book, which he gave me again, and looked 
at me." The look would have had a withering effect 
upon many of Samuel's superiors ; but the same spirit 
and views which emboldened him to make the applica- 
tion, supported him in the rebuff with which he met. 
"I am surprised," said the clergyman, "that you 
should make such a request ; that you should ask me 
to support dissenters from the Church of England !" 
Samuel instantly interposed with " No, Sir, we are not 
dissenters ; the Church has dissented from us. The 
Methodists are good churchmen, where the gospel is 
preached. And as for myself, I never turned my back 
on a brief when I went to church." Though wiser 
heads than his own would have found it difficult to 
charge dissenterism upon the Church, except from 
Popery, he was correct in his denial of the application 
of the epithet to the Methodist body. The retort was 
more equitably supported when he defended himself, by 
adding, to hi3 reverence, " I think there is no more 
in you helping to support us, than there is in us helping 
to support you." The clergyman here very properly 
took shelter under the wing of the state — his only 
ground of defence — by replying, " You are obliged to 
support us; the law binds you to do it." Samuel, in 
return, resorted to the only code of laws with which he 
had any acquaintance, and which he consulted daily — 
■the Christian code — saying, " Ours is a law of love ; 



82 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 



und if we cannot all think alike, we must all love 
alike." He concludes, on retiring with his Wesleyan 
"brief" which met with a better reception elsewhere, 
" We parted after a long contest ; and although I did 
not get any money from him, I would not have taken 
five shillings for my cause ;" or, as in all probability he 
meant, the opportunity he had just had of pleading and 
supporting it. 

His summary of his labours, treatment, and success, 
during the remainder of his tour, is worthy of notice : 
" I had a very good time in going round the circuit — 
iiad very kind friends — preached and prayed — and got 
seventy pounds towards the debt. While employed in 
this noble work, I got my own soul blest ; and I grew 
like a willow by the waterside. I got many a wet 
shirt, and many a warm heart ; and while I was beg- 
ging for money, I did not forget to pray for the souls of 
my fellow creatures." 

Some money which had been lent upon a chapel in 
the neighbourhood some time after this, being about to 
he called in, Samuel felt very uncomfortable lest the 
sum should not be forthcoming when required. Relief 
seemed to present itself in a moment, while musing in 
his shop. He laid aside his tools — went into the house 
— -washed— and attired himself in his best appareh 
His friend, Mr. R., surprised to see him thus habited, 
enquired, "Where are you going, Samuel?" "I am 
bown (going) to Frystone to get some money for the 
chapel," he replied. "Of whom?" it was asked. 

" Of Mr. ," was rejoined. Mr. R. knowing the 

gentleman, and considering him, from his prejudices 
and habits, to be a very unlikely person for such an 
application, endeavoured to dissuade him from the jour- 
ney. His entreaties were fruitless; Samuel set off — 
obtained an interview with the gentleman — was cour- 
teously received— ^and after naming the object of his 
mission, the circumstances in which the trustees would 
be placed, and the nature of the security, wa? told that 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 83 

the money was at his service at any hour. Samuel 
returned delighted, and it is doubtful whether any man 
besides himself would have obtained relief from the 
same source. Mr. R. had given all up in despair. 

Samuel Hiek was a man who would not solicit chari- 
ties from others, in order to save himself, or even a 
loan, which he would not have cheerfully advanced, 
provided he had the amount in his possession. He 
gave to the extent of his ability, and might even be 
associated with those of the Corinthians, who, " Beyond 
their power, were willing of themselves" to impart gifts 
to others. Many interesting instances of liberality 
might be selected from different periods of his personal 
history, and here concentrated. As specimens of 
others which must henceforth remain curtained from 
earthly gaze, the following charities, without attending 
to any chronological arrangement, will tend to illustrate 
one of the more important traits in his character. 

He had long looked upon Aberford, his birth-place r 
as his Redeemer had beheld Jerusalem — with the com- 
passionate emotions of a soul alive to the spiritual dan- 
gers and necessities of the inhabitants. His wish to> 
see a Wesleyan chapel erected in it, amounted even to 
anxiety, if not pain. In the year 1804, his wife had 
£200 left her by a relation. This was placed by the 
side of the fruits of his own industry, and the union 
gave the appearance of wealth in humble life. As his 
property increased, so did his anxiety for a place of 
worship at Aberford ; and he at length declared, that if 
not a farthing should be contributed by others, rather 
than the village should be without a chapel, he would 
give the £200 which he had lately received. He 
stated his views and feelings to Mr. Rhodes,* and re- 
marked, that he thought he could procure a piece of 

* This venerable man, who was living when the 44th page 
of the first edition of this memoir was in the press, has since 
joined the world of spirits. "He died May 18th," says Mr. 
Dawson, " and entered the same heaven with Samuel*" 



84 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

ground from a gentleman, who, though a Methodist, had 
not come so far under the influence of its spirit, as to 
subdue the covetousness of his nature.* Mr. Rhodes 
intimated to him, that he doubted his success in the di- 
rection towards which he was looking, unless the old 
gentleman was either about to die, or some extraordi- 
nary change had taken place in the disposition of his 
heart. Samuel was not to be diverted from his pur- 
pose : he could have rendered nugatory, by a single 
sentence — " The Lord has the hearts of all men in his 
own keeping"- — all the reasoning of the most skilful 
logician — could have dissipated every doubt like mist 
before the sun. Away he proceeded to the late Sir 
Thomas Gascoigne, Bart., the Lord of the Manor, in 
order, in the first instance, to obtain permission to pro- 
cure stone upon Hook Moor, since, without building 
materials, the land would not have answered his pur- 
pose. This was readily granted. He next proceeded 
to the gentleman loaded with " thick clay," who was 
instinctively led to raise objections against the proposal. 
Samuel, in perfect keeping with the other portions of his 
thinkings and remarks, combated every objection, not 
in the detail, but with one of his wholesale sweeps — 
" The land is the Lord's ; you are only the occupier ; 
and the Lord wants some of his own land to build his 
own house upon." Mr. T., who already had the " nine 
points" in law on his side, was not to be subdued by a 
single blow in the onset ; nor was Samuel to abandon 
himself to despair by the notion of possession, as he 
could have instantly conjured up the argument of death' 
to dispossess the occupant. Such, however, were the 

* Samuel had some odd notions and expressions relative to 
such characters. Looking abroad at the fine feeling of benevo- 
lence which had gone forth; and not often associating with per. 
sons of a parsimonious disposition, he exclaimed to a friend one 
day, 4t The breed of misers is nearly run out, and not one of the 
few that are living dare get married, so that in a little time we 
shall see no more of them." 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH* 85 

irresistible appeals of one untutored mind upon another, 
such Samuel's importunity, that the miser in the man 
actually gave way before him, and the old gentleman 
told him, that he thought he should not live much long- 
er, and would therefore let him have the piece of 
ground which he had selected for the purpose. Samuel 
went home rejoicing ; but his joy, alas ! was of short 
duration ; it was like the fold of a cloud, which, by sud- 
denly opening and re-closing, only veils the heavens 
with additional darkness : the miser started into life 
again during his absence, the proprietor altered his re- 
solution, and every hope was frosted. All, however, 
was not lost. "It is but justice to state," Mr. Dawson 
observes, "that though Mr. T. died before a chapel 
was erected at Aberford, yet he expressed a wish to his 
executors that they should give five pounds towards 
such erection, should one at any future period be built, 
With this request, though only orally delivered, they 
cheerfully complied." 

About eight years after this, there was a favourable 
opening for a chapel, which Samuel promptly embrac- 
ed. He was desirous, however, of associating Martha 
with him in this charity ; and having more confidence in 
his God than in himself, he retired to pray, that her 
heart might be prepared for its exercise. On with- 
drawing from his privacy, and appearing before her, he 
scarcely felt satisfied respecting his success,, and again 
retired without opening his mind on the subject. He 
prayed— he believed — and rising from his knees, de- 
scended from the chamber in confidence. Martha 
knew that a chapel was on the eve of being built ; and 
the moment now arrived for ascertaining the tempera- 
ture of her charity. Samuel opened the business ; 
" You know, we are bawn to have a chapel at Aberford ? 
Matty, and we must give something to it ; what do you 
think it should be ?" " Well," returned Martha, whose 
proper character only required a fitting occasion for 
disclosure, "We mun gee summut haunsom," IS 

I 



S$ THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

did music sound sweeter to the human ear, than did this 
sentence to Samuel, who was instantly in tears. Bui 
there was still a degree of uncertainty remaining, in 
reference to the standard which each had separately, 
and privately fixed upon, as reaching the point, which, 
in their circumstances, was deemed something handsome. 
Samuel, therefore, solicitous to come to a conclusion, 
asked, " And what shall it be ?" " Twenty pounds," 
replied Martha. This was almost too much for his feel- 
ings, not only on account of the generosity displayed, 
but because it was the very sum upon which he himself 
had previously determined ; and the opportunity for no- 
ticing it is the more readily embraced, in order to place 
Martha's character in a correct light. It was intended 
as the dwelling-place of her God — it was a charity in 
which immortal spirits were concerned — and was also 
to be erected in the birth-place of her husband. A 
gentleman farmer undertook the work of soliciting sub- 
scriptions for its erection, and Samuel had the unspeak- 
able pleasure of seeing it rise in the face of the sun, 
vying with all around it for neatness and accommoda- 
tion. Samuel had the honour of laying the first stone, 
upon which he devoutly knelt, and most fervenily pray- 
ed for the blessing of God upon the house which was to 
overshadow it : " And as he offered the first 'prayer upon 
the first stone that was laid ;" so, says Mr. Dawson, " in 
the pulpit of the same chapel, he preached his last ser- 
mon, and poured forth his last public prayer for the pros- 
perity of Zion." The chapel was crowded on the occa- 
sion, and a collection made by him in the evening, for 
the purpose of defraying the expense of cleaning, light- 
ing, &c, far exceeded any sum that had been obtained 
for the same object before ; the auditory thus, both by 
their attendance and liberality, rendered that homage 
which they would have paid him, had they been certain 
he was about to make his exit, and expected to hear 
him announce for his farewell address, " Ye shall see 
my face no more." 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 87 

A conquest bo less complete, but much more rapid 
than the preceding, was one which he obtained over 
another son of the earth, in one of his Yorkshire tours. 
Having met on former occasions, they were known to 
each other, and as great an intimacy subsisted between 
them as was possible in the admixture of fine gold and 
the coarsest clay. Samuel addressed him on the behalf 
of Christian missions, but found every part of the for- 
tress provided with arms against any regular and deli-, 
berate attack. Poverty was pleaded — objections to the 
object urged — and reasons given why help should be 
sought in other quarters. On finding all " special 
pleading" ineffectual, and as though aware that a city, 
which would be proof against a regular siege, might 
nevertheless be taken by surprise, he dropped in his ac- 
customed manner upon his knees, and turning from the 
miser, directed his addresses to God. Every sentence 
was like inspiration, and penetrated the soul of the miser 
like the fire of heaven — withering him with fear. Im- 
pressed apparently with a dread of the Being before 
whom he was immediately brought in prayer, in whose 
hearing he had pleaded poverty, though possessed of 
thousands of gold and silver, and who could, in an in- 
stant, as easily take away life as annihilate property, he 
exclaimed with hurried vehemence, — " Sam, 111 give 
thee a guinea, if thou wilt give over." Samuel, un- 
ruffled in his pleadings by tli'e oddity of the circum- 
stance, and who, in fact, had too many of his own to be 
moved by those of others, and encouraged withal by the 
symptoms which appeared, proceeded with earnestness 
in his addresses, and changing the subject, with the 
quickness of thought, told his Maker how inadequate a 
guinea was to effect the conversion of the world, and 
how trifling a sum it was in return for the thousands 
which the recipient had received in the dispensations of 
Providence. The miser was again met in an unex- 
pected way, and in the genuine " love of money," 
which seemed to excite a fear lest he should be further 



$gj THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH, 

wrought upon by the prayer of the petitioner, or that 
God should extort from him in the moment of excited 
feeling moro than the selfishness of his nature would 
allow, he again roared out,—" Sam, I tell thee to give 
over; I'll give thee two guineas, if thou wilt only give 
it up. w Anxious to maintain his ground, Samuel started 
up with the same abruptness with which he had knelt — 
held the miser to iris word — secured two notes — and 
t>ore them away in triumph to a missionary meeting 
about to be held in the neighbourhood, where he exhi- 
bited them on the platform, with the high-wrought feel- 
ings of a man who had snatched a living child from the 
clutch of an eagle. To be grave in the rehearsal or 
hearing of such facts, is as difficult as it is to believe in 
the sincerity of the giver ; and were it not for the gene- 
ral artlessness of conduct and disposition manifested by 
•Samuel, it would have been impossible to view it other- 
wise than as a species of dexterous acting, practised 
with a view to impose. But a preconcerted plan would 
have spoiled it ; he had not a mind to carry him for- 
ward in such a thing beyond the length of his own 
shadow beneath a meridian sun ; he was the mere crea- 
ture of impulse — knew no more of plot than a child. 

He was less successful in another case, when called 
upon to visit a professor of religion possessed of from 
six to eight thousand pounds, and yet, as a proof of the 
hollowness of his professions, who would not allow him- 
self the common necessaries of life. Samuel, having 
heard he was dying, and being well acquainted with 
him, entered his habitation of wretchedness. The fur- 
niture was poor, and appeared to have served two or 
three generations in a regular ancestral line ; the room 
was filthy, and the air fetid ; and yet the general survey 
was less repulsive than the scene in one of the corners 
of the room, where the wretched man was lying on a 
still more wretchedly dirty bedstead, covered with an old 
horse-cloth, and scarcely an article of linen visible. 
Samuel was shocked at the sight, and accosted him*— 



THE VI .ACkSMii^: 89 

u Man, what art thou about 1 Thou hast plenty ; why 
dost thou not make thyself comfortable? Thou wilt 
leave thy money to those happen, that will make none of 
the best use of it."* Turning his dim eye and squalid 
face towards Samuel, and thrusting his withered arm 
from underneath the filthy coverlet, like the skeleton 
arm of death stretching into sight, he pointed his finger 
downward, and said, — " Look there ; I do endeavour to 
comfort myself." Samuel inclined his head, till he was 
enabled to look beneath the bed, where he beheld a 
small phial bottle, within one of his shoes, the heel of 
which was high enough to support it. " That," added 
he, " is a sup gin." After dealing faithfully with him, 
Samuel knelt by his side, and supplicated Heaven for 
mercy. " But," said he to a friend afterwards, " bless 
you, 6arn,f I could not pray ; the heavens were like 
brass ; there was no getting to the other side of them •, 
and how was it possible to get over all yon old crooks, 
rusty iron, and hobnails, heaped up in the corner, which 
had been collecting for years, and which, if every body 
had their own, were happen none of his !" 

During part of the life of two of Martha's sisters, who 
resided in Rochdale, he paid an annual visit to them in 
that town. On one of these occasions, in 1801 or 1802, 
while Mr. Percival was stationed on the circuit, he went 
as usual to tender him his respects. Mr. P. engaged 

* As a specimen of what he had to expect, and of the profu*. 
sion of avarice, the man saw his nephew and heir, some time 
prior to this, coming out of a public-house opposite to his own, 
staggering, and throwing off the contents of a sickened stomach 
as he crossed the street. '• See thee," said he to his brother, who 
was sitting beside him, " how our money will go when we are 
gone; — come, there is a penny — go thee and get some ale, and 
let us make ourselves comfortable while we live." This ale, by 
the way, was sold at a penny per quart, which nothing short of 
sheer want and feverish thirst could induce a human being to 
drink. But it was the comfort of a miser. 

t "Barn; in Scotland, bairn, for child; an expression very 
common with Samuel, in his addresses to both rich and poor, old 
and young. 

r 2 



16 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMV. 

him to preach in the country the n^xt day, which Was 
the Sabbath, and a person was appointed to conduct hirn, 
Samuel ascended the pulpit, preached in his accustomed 
way, but failed to secure the attention of his rustic 
hearers. He gave up preaching, and commenced a 
prayer-meeting. It was not long before a person mani- 
fested deep distress of soul on account of personal guilt, 
Samuel's companion was alarmed lest some of the irreli- 
gious part of the congregation should become unruly ; 
but the service passed off much better than was antici- 
pated. Samuel called upon Mr. Percival the next mor- 
ning, to inform him of his Sabbath's excursion ; and, in 
allusion to this and similar visits, he told the people, 
after the commencement of missionary meetings, that he 
had " been a missionary many years, and had preached 
to white heathens in Lancashire." Mrs. P. was con- 
fined in child-bed, and Mr. P. himself, being without 
servant, was preparing breakfast for the children, eight 
or nine in number — such a breakfast as is commonly 
used by the lower classes of society in Lancashire and 
the west of Yorkshire. Samuel cast an alternate look 
at this minister of God, and at his poor children : his 
compassion was moved — it was more than he could sup- 
port himself under — he retired — walked about the ground 
adjoining the house — sighed, wept, prayed. He knew 
the price of provisions was high, and board-wages low : 
he saw the effects. He had but two guineas in his 
pocket ; he returned, divided the sum, and gave Mr. P. 
a guinea.* On his arrival at home he gave his wife the 
history of his journey, together with an account of the 
manner in which he had disposed of his money, stating, 
among other particulars, that he had " lent the Lord a 
guinea at Rochdale." Martha remonstrated with him, 
supposing, as others would have done, that he had 

* Mr. P. was a truly pious man, and a most excellent preach- 
^r. He died soon after Samuel's visit, leaving a widow and nine 
children. He was gnereally reepected and beloved by all the 
Circuit.— C. Ed. 

I 



THE VILLA-: 

scarcely acted with prudence in his generosity, telling 
him, that, in his circumstances, " half-a-guinea would 
have been very handsome." Samuel replied in his 
usual way, with the feelings of a man delivered of a 
burden, and with strong anticipations of the future, — - 
" Bless thee, my lass, the Lord will soon make it up to 
us;" which was actually the case a few weeks after- 
wards, and made up, it may be added, four-fold. He 
seemed to have none of those secondary or intermediate 
sentiments and impressions which are often fatal to 
better feelings — the creature interposing between the 
Creator and the soul ; and hence it is that we perceive 
the spring of most of his movements : he considered 
himself, in all his charities, as acting immediately under 
and for God — 'as receiving from him, and giving to 
him;* furnishing a standing, a living exemplification of 
his faith in, " I was an hungered, and ye gave me 
meat : in as much as ye have done it unto one of the 
least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto ??ie." 

There was still a degree of mystery hanging around 
the benevolence of Samuel at Rochdale, for which 
Martha was unable satisfactorily to account, as she had 
only allowed what she deemed the adequate expenses 
of the journey. But Samuel, supposing he was pinioned 
a.little too closely for the occasion, paid a stolen visit to 
his friend Mr. Rhodes before he set off, requesting the 
loan of a guinea, as he had frequently done, saying, — 
" We can set it straight, you know, at Christmas, when 
we settle. rt When Martha came to a knowledge of 
this, she remarked, that she had often thought that Mr. 
Rhodes's payments appeared but small when compared 
with the work which had been done. 

* It was a fine sentiment of the benevolent Reynolds, of Bris- 
tol, in reply to a lady who applied to him on behalf of an orphan, 
After he had given liberally, she said, "When lie is old I will 
teach him to name and thank his benefactor." " Stop," said the 
good man, "thou art mistaken : we do not thank the clouds for 
the rain. Teach him to look higher, and thank him who giveth 
both the clouds and the rain." 



92 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

In addition to this mortgage-like source, to which he 
fled on special occasions, he had a secret place in his 
shop, where he was accustomed to deposit a little cash 
for regular use. Living by the side of the great north 
road from London to Edinburgh, he was constantly re- 
ceiving visits from objects of distress. On their appear- 
ance he went to his hoard, and relieved them as his 
feelings dictated and his funds allowed. 

On one occasion he even put his friend Mr. R. upon 
his mettle, in the race of charity. The Rev. J. P., 
Ending that the debt upon the Pontefract Circuit pressed 
heavily on the spirits and pockets of the Stewards, re- 
solved to have it either reduced or entirely liquidated. 
He accordingly went to Mr. R. among the first, as a 
person of property, in full expectation of meeting with 
encouragement and support. After looking at the case, 
and hesitating some time, Mr. R. drily said, "You may 
put me down five shillings." The Reverend applicant's 
spirits seemed to drop several degrees ; and, with his 
horizon overcast in the outset, he began to conclude that 
the debt was not soon to be removed. Samuel was 
standing by, employing his ears and his eyes, but not 
his voice ; and Mr. P., turning to him, asked despond- 
ingly, " How much will you give ?" " Put me down a 
pound," lie returned. Mr. P.'s spirits suddenly rose — 
Samuel stood unmoved, apparently watching the effect ; 
while his wealthy friend stared with astonishment, say- 
ing, after a short pause, and in as graceful a manner as 
possible, " You will have to put me down the same, I 
suppose." So much for the influence of example. 

He was an utter stranger to the feeling of giving v 
" grudgingly." His was, in poetic language, a " bur- 
ning charity ;" like concealed fire, constantly enlarging, 
till it actually tears away the surface of the earth, to let 
loose the imprisoned flame. It only wanted an object 
upon which to expend itself; and, as he rarely gave 
with discretion, the first applicant generally fared the 
most bountifully. He was returning from the pit one 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 93 

day with a load of coals : a little girl, seeing him pass 
the door, ran towards him, and asked for a piece of coal, 
stating that her mother was confined, and the family 
without fire. He stopped the horse, went into the 
house, made inquiry into their circumstances, found tho 
tale of the child correct, brought the cart to the door, 
— and poured down the whole of the load, free of cost. 
Having no money upon him to pay for an additional 
load, and being apprehensive of a lecture at home for 
the abundance of his charity, he returned to the coal-pit, 
where he knew he had credit for twenty times the quan- 
tity, re-filled his cart, and returned home with his soul 
hymning its way up to Heaven, like the lark breasting 
the morning breeze, and gladdening the inhabitants 
below with its first song. 

To him it was of no importance what was the nature 
of the vvant ; if it were a zvant, it was sure to be met by 
him with the first object calculated to supply it, to which 
he had any legal claim ; and met, too,^ith the freedom 
and sudden gush of a fountain breaking from the side of a 
hill, giving forth its streams till its sources are exhausted 
by its impetuosity. Of this, his conduct to some soldiers 
on a march, during the late war, affords perhaps as fine 
a specimen as any that can be selected. It was what 
is termed a " forced march, 55 and in the height of sum- 
mer. The regiment being on its route to the south, a 
party halted at Micklefield early in the morning : the 
village inn could accommodate but a small portion of 
them, and the remainder took their seats on the heaps of 
stones by the side of the road. Samuel, as usual, was 
up early, and, sallying out of the house, he had pre- 
sented to his view these veterans in arms. A thrill of 
loyalty was felt in his bosom,, as every thing connected 
with his king, to whom he was passionately attached, 
was calculated to produce. Fie instantly returned to 
the house, ^nd placed before the men the whole con- 
tents of thff)uttery, pantry, and cellar : Bread, cheese, 
m'\}k } butter, meat, and beer went, and he himself in the 



6i THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

tnidst of the men, as happy as a king living in the hearts 
of his subjects. Though in the very heyday of enjoy- 
ment, he looked with tenderness upon the men, who 
were about to take the field, and dismissed them with 
his blessing. But he had part of the reckoning still to 
pay with his partner. Martha came down stairs, and, 
vSter engaging in other domestic concerns, proceeded to 
the buttery, to skim the milk for breakfast. All had 
disappeared. Enquiry was made ; and when she found 
how the things had been disposed of, she chided him, 
saying, " You might have taken the cream off before 
you gave it to them." Samuel replied, " Bless thee, 
barn, it would do them more good with the cream upon 
it." The officers of the regiment having heard of his 
conduct, called upon him to remunerate him for what he 
had done ; but he thanked them for their intentions, 
stating, that what he had given he had freely given, and 
that the men were welcome to the whole. The tale of 
Samuel's boun$was handed from company to company, 
and lastly from regiment to regiment : and on the plains 
of Waterloo, some of the brave fellows, when nearly 
exhausted through excessive toil, were heard to express 
a wish by some who had heard the story, and knew 
Samuel, that they again had access to his milk and beer. 
Little was he aware that he would be borne in British 
hearts from his native shore, and triumph in those 
hearts in his deeds of charity, upon a field and in a 
struggle that decided the fate of Europe, — be recollected 
as the warrior's solace in the hour of peril ! 

Though Samuel received occasional lectures from 
his good wife on account of his charities, it was not 
owing to a want of generous feeling in her, but to a 
greater share of prudence ; and it was a fortunate cir- 
cumstance for him that he had such a curb at hand ; 
otherwise he would have been often seriously involved 
in his circumstances, and through charity ,alone, might 
either have enlarged the list of bankrupts in the gazette, 
©r been led to the work-house to subsist on the chanty of 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH, 95 

Others. In this, though in the character of a drawback? 
she was in reality, a help-meet ; and by prudently iooking 
forward, was enabled to foresee the possibility of an evil 
day of want, and to hide both herself and the children 
from its calamities, by a little timely provision. It was 
not surprising to find Samuel plunging occasionally, yet 
innocently, when the reins were drawn a little more 
tightly than he wished. An amusing scene of this kind 
took place in the domestic circle. He was going out, 
and had attired himself in his better garb for public ap- 
pearance. Not knowing what demands of justice or of 
mercy might be made upon him before his return, he 
asked his daughter* then at home, and who frequently 
acted the part of purse-bearer for a few shillings. Mar- 
tha, whose hearing was unusually quick on those occasi- 
ons, was on the look out. The two hands were stretch- 
ed out — that of the daughter to give, and that of the fa- 
ther to receive — without either of them being aware that 
another eye was upon them. Martha, unperceived, gli- 
ded up to them like an apparition — passed her arm be- 
tween them — and, placing her hand beneath the one con- 
taining the silver, gave it a sudden jerk : up flew the 
contents, which suddenly descended in a shower on the 
house floor, when Martha, out of seven or eight shillings^ 
secured a dividend of four. 

These little incidents shew the man, as well as the ne- 
cessary restraints imposed ; nor could he be seen with- 
out them, and however sensible the biographer may be 
of their want of dignity, and sometimes even of gravity, 
there is a greater solicitude in " hitting off* the likeness," 
tlgn in securing fame by the chaste and classical execu- 
tion of the work. Samuel, to be known, must be thread- 
ed through every path of private as well as public life, 
and into one of the former he may again be traced, and 
beheld with interest, if not admiration. 

He was in the habit of visiting the sick ; and as he was 
no respecter of persons, he attended people of every 
persuasion, and in every rank in life, to whom he could 



96 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH, 

find access. Among others he visited the wife of old Wil- 
liam Hemsworth, who died in 1820. William, and his 
two sons, having united themselves to the Wesleyan so- 
ciety, were in the hahit of accompanying Samuel to dif- 
ferent places, in his religious excursions. She, being a 
Roman Catholic, looked upon Samuel as a heretic, lead- 
ing them astray from the true faith. Affliction, at length 
overtook her, on her route to the grave ; and what was 
not a little singular, she sent for Samuel to pray with her. 
His prayers were effectual — her heart was smitten — the 
clouds of ignorance and superstition rolled off in succes- 
sion from her understanding, like mists from the face of 
a landscape before the morning sun. On the arrival of 
the Priest, under whose guidance she had been for a 
number of years, he was shewn to her apartment ; but 
instead of waiting for instruction, she upbraided him for 
not having inculcated upon her the necessity of the 
" new birth," stating at the same time, that she derived 
" more good from Sammy Hick's prayer, than from all 
that" she " had heard before, and that if" she recovered, 
she would " go among the Methodists." The daughter 
asked the Priest to pray with her mother ; but supposing 
her too far gone in heresy for recovery, he retired, say. 
ing, "I have done with her." It is pleasing to add, that 
the woman died in possession of " perfect peace." 

Another person of the same persuasion, and nearly at 
the same time, resident at Micklefield, was visited by 
Samuel. The Priest and Samuel accidentally met in 
the sick man's chamber at the same time ; and in order 
to effect either the withdrawal or expulsion of the latter, 
the Priest told the family that he could " not do any th ym 
while Samuel" was present. This was a point which re- 
quired some deliberation ; and no one appearing forward 
in the business, the reverend gentleman took it upon him- 
self, to order Samuel to walk out of the house, Samuel 
supposing he might be serviceable on the occasion, ob= 
served, " Two are better far than one ;" but the Priest 
not according with this sentiment, and the mother of the 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 97 

poor man declaring — intoxicated meanwhile with liquor, 
that she could not say her prayers for Sammy Hick, he 
was obliged to leave. So much for bigotry and intoxica- 
tion, linked on the occasion like a wedded pair ! 

He was more useful in visiting a poor aged widow. — 
After encouraging and praying with her, he put six-pence 
into her hand — the sum total, it is believed, he had upon 
his person at the time. She appeared overpowered with 
gratitude, and he was deeply affected with the manner in 
which it was expressed. It suddenly occurred to him, 
and he internally accosted himself — " Bless me, can six- 
pence make a poor creature happy ? How many sixpen- 
ces have I spent on this mouth of mine, in feeding it 
with tobacco ! I will never take another pipe whilst I 
live ; I will give to the poor whatever I save from it." — 
From that hour he denied himself. It was not long, how- 
ever, before he was seriously indisposed. His medical 
attendant, being either inclined to try the strength of his 
resolution, or supposing that he had sustained some inju- 
ry by suddenly breaking oif the use of the pipe, and 
therefore would derive advantage from its re-adoption ? 
addressed him thus : " You must resume the use of the 
pipe, Mr. Hick." 

Sam. " Never more, Sir, while I live." 

Phys. " It is essential to your restoration to health, 
and I cannot be answerable for consequences, should you 
reject the advice given." 

Sam. " Let come what will, I'll never take another 
pipe ; Pve told my Lord so, and I'll abide by it." 

Phys. " You will in all probability die then." 

Sam. " Glory be to God for that ! I shall go to hea- 
ven ; I have made avow and I'll keep it.'' His medical 
adviser found him unflinching in the face of danger and 
of death ; and as he recovered from his illness, he more 
readily attributed the prolongation of life to the honour 
which God had conferred upon him for his self-denial, 
than to the most efficacious medicine that could have 
been administered. 

K 



98 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH:. 

This fearlessness, for which he was indebted both to? 
nature and grace, produced on one occasion a happy ef- 
fect. He had been at Askern Spaw with Martha, some 
time in 1816, and on his return home, took occasion to 
stand up in the cart, before he reached Norton, to throw 
his great coat over her, in order to prevent her from 
taking cold during her exposure to the open air. Just at 
that moment the horse took fright — Samuel lost his ba- 
lance — fell backwards out of the cart — and pitched upon 
his shoulder. He sustained considerable injury, and 
when raised from the ground, was unable to stand erect. 
He was conveyed with some difficulty to the village ; on 
reaching which, a medical gentleman was sent for, who 
deemed it advisable not to bleed him, though urged to it 
by him. " I am very ill, Sir," said Samuel, " and must 
be bled." The Surgeon replied, " If you are bled at 
present, you will die." " Die — die, Sir," was returned. 
" What is death to me ? I am not afraid of dying. I 
have nothing to do, but to make my will ; and 1 can 
make it in two minutes; there are plenty of witnesses. 
My money shall be disposed of, so and so," naming in a 
few brief sentences, the manner ; then stretching out his 
great arm, as he did on a subsequent occasion, he said* 
" Live or die, I will be bled." The gentleman hoping 
the best, opened the vein, and took a bason of blood 
from him. Not satisfied, Samuel stretched forth the 
other arm, and said, JC I will be bled in this also." His- 
attendant again complied with his wish, and took from 
him a second bason full. " When he did this," Samuel 
observed, " the pain went away as nice as aught" On 
the bandages being properly adjusted, Samuel said, 
" Now, doctor, you have been made a blessing to my 
body ; I will beg of God to bless your soul." So saying, 
he knelt in his usual hurried way, and devoutly prayed 
for his benefactor. The surgeon, on rising, remarked, 
"I never had such a patient as you in the whole course 
of my practice ;" and then enquired his name and place 
of abode, to which Samuel distinctly replied, hitching in 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 99 

at the close, " I come here to preach sometimes-" This 
led to an invitation to the house of the surgeon, the next 
time he should visit the village, to which Samuel readily 
acceded, stating afterwards to a friend, that he was "glad 
of it," for he "wanted a good inn there." Accordingly, 
the next time he was appointed to preach in the village, 
he rode up to the surgeon's door, was hospitably enter- 
tained, and had both the surgeon himself and family as 
hearers. The house in which he preached was exceed- 
ingly crowded ; and on returning with the family, he ac- 
costed his host, — " You see, doctor, how uncomfortable 
we are. We ought to have a chapel. The stone is the 
Lord's — the wood is the Lord's — and the money is the 
Lord's." The gentleman took the hint ; and with a heart 
as ready to improve upon it, as he had acuteness to per- 
ceive it, offered a subscription to set the work in motion ; 
Samuel instantly proceeded to solicit subscriptions from 
others ; and out of this misfortune arose a Wesleyan 
Methodist chapel. In that chapel Samuel had the plea- 
sure of holding forth the word of life. It may be added, 
that so much delighted was the gentleman with the pa- 
tience, fortitude, and conversation of Samuel ; and con- 
necting with it his intention to leave home two or three 
times before he was sent for, but still unaccountably de- 
tained, without being able to assign any reason, till Sam- 
uel's messenger arrived, he was led to acknowledge a 
supreme power, and to perceive a vitality in the influence 
of religion upon the heart, which he had neither previ- 
ously known nor confessed. 

Prodigal as Samuel was in some of his charities, 
towards persons in great need, and who were likely to 
make a proper use of them, there were seasons when 
he seemed to be vested with a discretional power, bene- 
ficial to the recipient. A. poor man had lost a horse by 
sickness. Samuel, who was "a servant of all work," 
in the begging line, went round the neighbourhood, and 
collected money for the purchase of another. This 
amounted to a guinea more than the value of the anU 



100 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

mal, — a sum of less than twenty shillings being suffi- 
cient to purchase another equally poor to replace it. 
The man himself, though a professor of religion, was 
less entitled to Samuel's confidence than his benevo- 
lence : and to shew how low he stood, by the small 
degree of prosperity he was capable of sustaining, Sam- 
uel, speaking of him to a friend, said, " I did not give 
him the guinea all at once ; I gave it him as I thought 
he needed it ; for bless you, barn, you see he could not 
bear prosperity*" The notion of "prosperity" being 
appended to so small a sum as a guinea, is worthy of 
being preserved as a memento emanating from a mind 
which was itself stamped by it as a still greater curi- 
osity. 

Benevolence of heart, though connected with slender 
personal means, is often of greater value to a neigh- 
bourhood, in such a man as Samuel Hick, than the opu- 
lence of others. A female who resided about a mile 
from his house, was extremely poor, and hastening, 
through consumption, to an invisible world. When her 
case became known, he went to Aberford — applied to 
several respectable people — stated her circumstances — 
and solicited a variety of things which he deemed suit- 
able for her relief and support. Aware of the honour 
which God puts upon faith, agreeably to the declaration 
of our Lord to the blind men, " According to your faith 
be it unto you," he provided himself beforehand, in the 
strength of his confidence, with a basket ; which, toge- 
ther with his pocket, was replenished on his return, 
having between twenty and thirty shillings in one, — 
muffins, bread, butter, sugar, and a shoulder of mutton 
in the other. Careful Martha, who was never back- 
ward in rare cases, as has been perceived, and would 
have done more in such as were less necessitous, had 
she not known that Samuel's benevolence was more 
than sufficient for both, added her half-crown to the 
moneys collected ; and Samuel, with his basket by his 
side,' set off to the cottage of this daughter of affliction, 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 101 

and was received like the angel of plenty in time of 
famine. 

" His hqart always melted," says Mr. Dawson, " at 
the sight, or on hearing the tale of woe. He could not 
hear of persons in distress, but he wept over them ; and 
if they were within his reach, he relieved them accord- 
ing to his ability, applying also to others more affluent 
than himself to assist in such works of mercy. If ever 
a person answered the character of the liberal man, 
who devises liberal things, Samuel Hick was that man. 
The highest luxury that he could enjoy was, to deal out 
bread to the hungry, to bring the poor into his house 
that were cast out, to cover the naked, and to satisfy 
the afflicted soul. Then it was that he felt the full 
truth of that sentence, ' It is more blessed to give than 
to receive.' " 

But if one object of charity was more paramount than 
another in his affections and exertions, it was that of 
Christian missions ; — a charity on the broadest scale, 
which blends all the miseries of time with the glories of 
eternity, alleviating the one by the contemplation of the 
other; — a charity which looks at the ichole man, in all 
the relations of life ; — a charity whose object is the 
destruction of sin — that which, like a pestilential va- 
pour, blights the whole harvest of human hope and 
comfort, and, carrying the seeds of destruction into 
every source of prosperity, reduces society to the con- 
dition of a tree withered to the root ; — a charity, in 
short, occasioned by " Paradise Lost," and which will 
never know cessation in its doings till the fact is ascer- 
tained of "Paradise Regained." So far back as the 
period when the late Dr. Coke commenced what has 
been termed the " drudgery of begging," Samuel gave 
him half a guinea for the support of the missions ; and 
this, considering the scanty means he had then at com- 
mand, and the small number of missionaries employed, 
would not have disgraced the " Reports" of modern 
times. But it was not till the 'public meetings commene- 

k2 



W2 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

<ed at Leeds,* and elsewhere, that his soul, as though it 
liad been in bondage before — for such was the change 
— bounded off, and expatiated at full liberty. Here he 
had ample scope for the finest, the fullest, and the 
-deepest philanthropic feelings of his heart ; and for 

* The biographer has had too deep an interest in these meet- 
ings, not to recollect the influence of their beginnings upon his 
own mind. It is difficult precisely to determine at this distance 
of time, with whom the first thought originated, or what was the 
first sentence that led to them. Mr. Scarth, of Leeds, repeatedly 
remarked to Mr. Dawson, before Dr. Coke took his departure for 
India, "The missionary cause must be taken out of the Docior's 
hand ; it must be made a ,puhlic — a common cause." It is not im- 
possible, that this may have been the germ of the whole. The 
Dissenters had a public meeting in Leeds, a few months previous 
to the first public one among the Wesleyans. This having been 
held in the course of the summer, Messrs. Scarth and Turking- 
tou visited the Conference, and expressed their views on the 
subject to the Rev. George Marsden, stating that something 
should be done in a more public way for the missionary interest 
belonging to their own body. With their views Mr. M. perfect- 
ly coincided. When the embarrassed state of the missionary 
fund came before the Conference, there appeared to be no alter- 
native between reducing the preachers at home or the mission- 
aries abroad. There was too much zeal and liberality in the 
body to permit either. The subject was one of deep interest; 
and did not die at Conference. Mr. Morley, the Leeds superin- 
tendent, thought, that if the Dissenters could raise a Missionary 
Meeting, the Methodists might also ; and accordingly suggested 
the subject to his colleagues, Messrs. Bunting and Filter, who 
zealously entered into his views. Not satisfied with commenc- 
ing this "new thing" in Methodism on their own responsibility, 
they were desirous of knowing how far the proposal of a public 
meeting would meet with the countenance of others of their bre- 
thren. Bramley having been then but recently divided from the 
Leeds circuit — a close union still subsisting between them — and 
being contiguous to each other, these gentlemen proceeded 
thither, with a view to deliberate with the Rev. W. Naylor and 
the biographer, who were then stationed on the Bramley circuit. 
No persuasion was requisite ; the propriety, necessity, and prac- 
ticability of the measure were manifest at once. The Leeds and 
the Bramley preachers thus took the first decisive and active step 
in the work, which has since been carried on to such an extent. 
-A corresponding chord was soon found to vibrate with pleasure 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 103 

many miles round his own homestead, it was rare not to 
see his face turn up in the crowd, like the image on a 
favourite medal, which is the pride and boast of the 
antiquary, and fixes the eye of the spectator much soon- 
er than most of the others which adorn his cabinet, 

in the breasts of the Rev. Messrs. R. Watson and J. Buckley, of 
the Wakefield circuit; and they were followed by Messrs. Reece 
and Atmore, of the Bradford and Halifax circuits, who both ex- 
ulted in the prospect of so ample an harvest of good. Mr. Bunt- 
ing organised the first plan — Mr. Watson wrote the first address 
— Mr. Buckley preached the first sermon on the occasion, at 
Armley, a place belonging to the Bramley circuit — and the first 
public meeting was held in the old chapel, at Leeds, — T. Thomp- 
son, Esq. M. P. in the chair.* The meetings were at first beheld 
by some of the brethren as the dotage of enthusiasm, and as the 
forerunner of a marriage union with the world. But they be. 
came so productive, and were so instrumental in producing good 
to the contributors, that the most sturdy opponents were not un- 
frequently found afterwards in the chair delivering their recanta- 
tions. 

* The Editor well remembers attending this first Wesleyan Methodist Mis- 
sionary Meeting, and all the religious services connected with it. On that oc- 
casion a fire was kindled in Leeds which soon spread to the extremities of the 
lan(^ and which will continue to burn with increasing intensity until its splen- 
dour be lost in millennium glory. May the same results follow Missionary 
Meetings in Canada !— C. Ed. 



lot 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH, 



CHAPTER VII. 

His patriotic feeling .... high price of provisions — differs with Mr. Pawson for 

prognosticating evil.. -letter to the Rev. Edward Irving on prophecy 

threatened invasion of Buonaparte — an address to the King Samuel's 

Joyalty M. A. Taylor, Esq — the suppression of a religious assembly 

a defence of a religious revival — his interview with Mr. Taylor — obtains 
a licence to preach — an allusion to him in a parliamentary debate. 

A man like Samuel Hick, whose mind was so thorough- 
ly imbued with divine grace, was not likely to be defec- 
tive in what is termed nationality, and the still more 
scriptural principle of loyalty. Never did a Jew, by 
the rivers of Babylon, reflect with greater tenderness 
upon Judea, "in a strange land," than he did upon his 
country, which he was in the habit of designating "'our 
island" — "our England," always considering himself as 
having a personal interest at stake in all its affairs ; andi 
% never did a subject in any realm pour out with greater 
sincerity and fervour the prayer of — " God save the 
King." 

During one of Mr. Pawson's appointments to the 
Leeds circuit, Samuel observes, " Corn was very dear. 
The poor people went round our town with a half 
guinea in their hands, and could not get a strike* of 
corn for it. Mr. Pawson came to Sturton Grange to 
preach, and while preaching, he told his congregation 
that there would be a famine in our land, and that he 

* Strike, a bushel. In the west of Yorkshire a strike is two 
pecks, or a half .bushel ; hence the high price of grain at the pe- 
riod referred to, when poor people could not obtain a half. bushel 
for a half guinea. 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 105 

had seen it coming on for twenty years. " Such a pro- 
phecy, from such a prophet — a man whom, like all 
lather Wesleyan ministers, he considered an apostle of 
God — and in reference to his own land, " of every land 
the pride," could not but awaken in him strange emo- 
tions. Without attempting to endue Mr. Pawson with 
the gift of prophecy, it is probable that he might inti- 
mate to his congregation, that he had sighed over the 
extreme wickedness of the wicked — having been touch- 
ed by it — that, from the poignancy of his feelings, he 
foreboded some manifestation of the divine displeasure 
— and by way of improving the subject, in order to lead 
the dissolute to repentance, prayer, and reformation, 
might lay hold of passing events in such a way as to 
lead Samuel, who, inapprehensive of his meaning, and 
not taking in the whole of the connecting links of 
thought, to draw the inference stated. 

Samuel returned home reflecting on what he conceiv- 
ed to be Mr. Pawson's view of the subject ; and the fol- 
lowing extract will shew the acuteness of his feelings, 
his simplicity, and his piety. "I began," says he, "to 
be very miserable ; and as my children were small, I 
thought it would be a sore thing for them, my wife, and 
myself to be pined to death. When I got home I went 
into my closet to enquire of the Lord, whether there 
would be a famine or no ; and while I was pleading I 
got as fair an answer from the Lord, that there would 
be no famine, as when he pardoned my sins and cleans- 
ed my soul. I saw that there was plenty of corn to 
supply till harvest. But this did not satisfy me : I told 
my wife that I could not rest till I went to inform the 
preacher that there would be no famine in our land. I 
set off for Sturton ; and when I got there, I told that 
dear woman of God, Mrs. Ward, my errand," Here 
Mrs. W. very properly interposed, not only on account 
of the lateness of the hour, which appears to have been 
on the same evening after preaching — but by delicately 
suggesting the impropriety there would be in his "pre- 



£06 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

tending to dictate to one of the first preachers in the 
connexion." But Samuel was not to be repulsed by 
either first or second, whether the claim instituted refer- 
red to priority of time or superiority of talent. He had 
his one argument at hand — "Thus saith the Lord;" 
and proceeds, " I told her not to blame me, for it was 
the Lord that had sent rne. With a deal to do, she let 
me into the room; and I told our brother Pawson, that 
the Lord had sent me to inform him that there would be 
no famine in the land." Mr. Pawson, whose forebod- 
ings were scarcely removed, replied, " Well, brother, I 
shall be very thankful to the Lord, to find it not so." 
Samuel taking a little credit for the correctness of his 
own judgment and impression in the case, and still firm 
in his belief in the actual prediction of a famine, adds, 
"So we see how good men may miss their way, for 
there was no famine." To persons whose feelings are 
not immediately interested, it is sometimes amusing to 
hear well-meaning men, without a prophetic soul, 
guessing against each other for their Maker. In the 
present case, Samuel's conduct in going to "enquire of 
the Lord," manifested a spirit worthy the most simple, 
the purest, the best part of patriarchal times; and as 
they were chiefly his own fears that had to be allayed, 
the impression that effected their removal, was so far — 
all prophecy on the occasion apart — an act of mercy — 
mercy manifested in the exercise of prayer. 

He availed himself of this supposed prophetic failure 
of Mr. Pawson, February 28th, 1826, when he address- 
ed a letter to the Rev. E. Irving, who had then reached 
the acme of his oratorical attractions, though not of his 
theological reveries, and who, as Samuel had been in- 
formed, had been prognosticating national calamities, 
because of national wickedness. The original, which 
is in the writer's possession, is a curiosity, and would, if 
printed as it flowed from his pen, exemplify the esti- 
mate given of his mind in the preceding pages. With 
the except ion of a few transpositions, retrenchments ia 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 107 

verbiage, and the occasional substitution of a word, the 
following may be considered as an allowable copy : — 



; Dear Brother Irving, the Prophet in London, 



I am 

d is bou 
Id put a 



informed that you have prophesied that this 
island^ Bzift to come to desolation ; but I think you 
should pura condition in your prophecy, viz., that if the 
people humble themselves, pray, and turn from their 
wicked ways, then God will hear from heaven, will par- 
don their sins, and will heal the land. When the pro- 
phet Jonah went to preach at Nineveh, the whole of the 
people of the city humbled themselves, and prayed to 
God ; and God heard their prayer, and saved them from 
destruction. If there had been ten righteous souls in 
the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah, when they were 
destroyed, in which there were so many thousands of 
men, women, and children, they would not have suffer- 
ed : and I fully believe, that if Abraham had pleaded on, 
the Lord would have saved the cities for his servant's 
sake ; but he gave up pleading, and then they were 
consumed. 

" But I have to inform you, Sir, that there are more 
than ten righteous men in a city ; for the little one has 
become a thousand, and the small one a strong nation. 
We have our Moseses, and our Elijahs, and our Daniels 
in our island, who are all pleading. We have thou- 
sands of children training up to fear God and honour 
the king ; we have Bible Societies, Missionary Meet- 
ings, and Tract Societies. These four institutions are 
the Lord's ; and this island is the Lord's nursery, in 
which he raises up plants to plant the Gospel in all the 
world, in order to be a witness unto all nations. Then 
the wickedness of the wicked shall come to an end — all 
shall know the Lord from the least to the greatest — 
nations shall learn war no mote — and the whole heart 
shall be filled with the glory of God. 



108 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

" The Pope prophesied, in years past and gone/' 
that he should get back the inheritance of his fore- 
fathers, be set upon the British throne, and have .all the 
churches restored : but that will never come to pass ; 
God will never suffer the Pope to govern his nursery or 
plantation. We shall be governed by peaceable gover- 
nors. We shall have peace and plenty. Th^ttfer that 
is past has been a plentiful year for temporal MP; and 
I trust, before we see the end of this, we shairrind it to 
have been one of the best we ever had for spiritual food ; 
that many will be brought to the knowledge of God ; 
and that we shall see the downfal of infidelity. 

" t have known good men miss their way in my day, 
by their prophecies. The prophets foretold that there 
should be wars and rumours of wars in the latter days, 
and that nation should rise up against nation. These 
prophecies have been fulfilled. Nation has been ur> 
against nation. There has been such destruction as 
never was before. But these days were to be shortened 
for the elects' sake." Then follows his account of what 
he denominated Mr. Pawson's prophecy, appending to 
it the case of another person, who, he observes, " pro- 
phesied that our island would be covered with war and 
bloodshed," and, as a precautionary measure, " took 
his family to America, where he purchased a large es- 
tate. But," continues Samuel, " these were foolish 
prophecies, and false prophets, and I firmly believe 
yours will prove to be like them. While we continue 
to honour God, by sending the Gospel to the poor per- 
ishing heathen, by keeping up our noble Bible and 
TracA Societies, and Sunday Schools, we shall neither 
have pestilence nor famine, nor shall the sword be per- 

* Samuel met with a man, in one of his journeys, who avowed 
his belief in the Roman Catholic creed, and his faith also in the 
restoration of our cathedrals and churches to the papal state. 
The public mind was considerably agitated at the time with the 
Catholic Question, and the impression produced by both, led him, 
probably, to introduce his holiness to Mr. Irving. 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH, 109 

mitted to go through the land. And although there is 
at present a great stagnation of trade and commerce, 
yet there is a remedy for us, on certain conditions. It 
is not a prophet nor an archangel, but the God that 
made the world, and all that therein is, who says, If I 
shut up heaven that there be no rain, or if I send a 
pestilence, if my people that is called by my name will 
humble themselves, and turn from their wicked ways, I 
will pardon their sins and will heal their land. This is 
the case. Persons are turning from their sins every day. 
Judgment is mixed with mercy. England is one of the 
first islands in the world. We have liberty of consci- 
ence ; we have peace ; and I hope trade and commerce 
will again revive, and that the suffering poor will have 
plenty of work, to enable them to earn bread for their 
families." 

There is not the slightest intention in the writer to 
bring the " Village Blacksmith" into the arena of con- 
trwersy, with a view to place him in polemic array 
against Mr. Irving ; nor need Mr. Irving be ashamed of 
the association, as a few of Samuel's positions are as 
tenable as some of those with which he has favoured 
the world in his more recent publications. Proceeding 
on the correctness of Samuel's information, which is 
only assumed for the occasion, his suggestion relative 
to the propriety of annexing conditions to threatening, 
and the support which he professes to derive from this 
suggestion from the case of Nineveh, are worthy of re- 
spect. His application of the subject to Britain, which 
he illustrates by the case of Sodom and Gomorrah, 
showing the superiority of the one over the other- 
Britain with her multitude of intercessors actually enga- 
ged at the throne of grace, her Christian philanthropy, 
as exhibited in her institutions, and the probable in- 
crease of conversions to God through the instrumen- 
tality of Sunday Schools — and the cities of the plain 
without their " ten righteous" characters — deducing 
from the whole the probability of our safety, shows 



110 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

that he was in possession of correct scriptural notions, 
though they often radiated in different directions, like 
so many scattered rays of light, being unable to employ 
them to the best advantage, and therefore not always 
falling with fulness on the point to be illuminated. The 
act too of pressing the late revolutionary wars into his 
service, which he considered to be no other than the 
" rumours of war" mentioned in Scripture, by way of 
-showing the difference between ancient and modern 
prophetic pretensions — the one having been fulfilled and 
the other remaining unaccomplished — and his attempt to 
rescue the prevailing commercial distress out of Mr. 
Irving's hands, that he might not avail himself of it in 
support of his predicted judgments, intimate a quickness 
of intellect, though unequal to that which precedes. 
But the letter is given chiefly with a view to show the 
manner in which his thoughts moved when venturing 
beyond the precincts of a few brief sentences ; and for 
this purpose too, as well as that of honouring the fell- 
ings of his heart, his address to his Majesty George III. 
may be introduced. 

At the time when Buonaparte threatened to invade 
England, there were great " searchings of heart."— 
Samuel was among the sufferers in spirit. When fear 
was at its height he retired into the fields, like the pro- 
phet to the summit of a solitary mountain, to intercede 
with his Maker ; and he there received what set his 
own mind at rest— an assurance that our shores would 
never be either printed or polluted by the foot of the 
enemy. From that period he went on his way rejoicing, 
and, in the strength of his confidence, his patriotic and 
loyal feeling, he wrote the address just alluded to, the 
substance of which is as follows:— 

" O King, live for ever! Let not your heart be 
troubled, nor your countenance be changed ; for that 
God whose church and cause you have defended, will 
also defend you, and deliver your from the lion and the 
jaear, and also from ibis uncircumcised Philktine ; for 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH, 111 

he shall never set his foot upon English ground. And 
if your Majesty the King wants a regiment of Life- 
guards to defend your person, your property, or your 
nation, God will raise them up from the Church of 
Christ, and 1 will go in the forefront ; and like Gideon's 
army, with their lamps in pitchers, on© of these will 
chase a thousand, and two will put ten thousand to 
flight. And if your Majesty the King wants any money 
to support or defend your person, your property, or 
your nation, I am now possessed of £600, and your 
Majesty shall have every shilling of it. When I began 
the world I had not a penny, nor a bite of bread to put 
into my mouth, and I will again begin the world as 
naked as at first. And that God whom I love and 
serve will never suffer the crown to be taken from the 
head of your Majesty till he shall crown you with im- 
mortality and eternal life." 

Whether the letter ever reached his Majesty is doubt, 
ful, not only because of the medium through which it 
was conveyed, but from the known character of that 
venerable monarch ; as it is more than probable, that, 
from the novelty of the occasion, he would have con- 
descended, not to accept the offer, but to pay respect to 
the generous emotions which emanated from the bosom 
of such a subject ; and the more so, as the name of 
Hick was not unfamiliar to the royal ear. Samuel had 
a brotlier-in-law* who was groom in the stables at 
Windsor, and to whom his Majesty paid personal atten- 
tion. Having been absent from his post through indis- 
position, his Majesty, on perceiving it, enquired in his 
hasty manner, " Where is Hick? Where is Hick?" 
When informed that he was ill, the royal enquiry was, 
" Has be had medical aid?" instantly adding, " if not, 
let him have it immediately." But the sufferer died ; 
and Mr. Dawson observes, " I have been informed 
that his widow was the object of his Majesty's attention, 

* His wife's brother, whose maiden name was Hkk> 



112 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

and bounty. " Samuel, by means of his brother-in-law,, 
had acquired that knowledge of his Majesty's private 
character which inspired him with veneration. This 
feeling led him to Windsor during his last visit tc* 
the metropolis : but of all the objects presented to the 
eye of a stranger nothing fixed his attention so much as 
the house of his God ; and, in that house, nothing 
yielded such rapture as the cushion upon whieh the 
royal personage had been accustomed regularly to per- 
form his devotional exercises. On that cushion Samuel 
devoutly knelt ; and as he could throw his whole soul 
into that prayer, " Give the King thy judgments, O 
God !" so he could as heartily add, " and thy right- 
eousness unto the king's son :" and hence it was, that,, 
when George III. resigned his crown, he transferred? 
his loyal affection to George IV. 

While the letter shows the piety, the loyalty, aud the 
liberality of its writer, together with the occasionally 
beautiful adaptation of scriptural language and scriptu- 
ral metaphor to the subject in hand, for which he was* 
sometimes so happy, and which, in some instances,, 
could not have been more felicitously introduced by our 
first divines, we are not less impressed with his con- 
tracted views, and amused with his notions of general- 
ship. For though Roman history has familiarized us 
with an instance of one of its first characters having 
been summoned from the plough to figure in arms, yet 
v/e are not quite prepared to see Samuel throwing aside 
the leathern apron for regimentals — to see him bran- 
dishing the sword, heading a troop of soldiers, and cut- 
ting his way through the ranks of the enemy. His hand 
was better adapted to the grasp of the hammer than the 
musket ; and his heart, which would have sickened at 
cruelty to a beetle, would have sooner led him to heal* 
than to wound. The estimate he formed of his prowess 
was what would have suited his state, when he silenced 
the clergyman in the presence of Mr. Burdsall. He 
would now have much sooner stripped, and turned up 



THE VILLAGE 13LACKS3IITH. 113 

his shirt-sleeves, in front of the anvil, to beat swords 
into ploughshares, and spears into pruning. hooks, than 
have girded himself for the fight : and it is questionable 
whether he had any intention in the case, besides that 
of appearing, like the rrronks of Bangor before Ethel- 
frith, accoutred, not with " carnal" weapons, but with 
** the whole armour of God," which, in his estimation, 
was more fitted for " the pulling down of strong-holds" 
than any other instrument that could be invented, whe- 
ther by a Congreve or an Archimedes. If he had 
any views beyond those of combating the assailants with 
the weapons of faith and prayer, we can only marvel at 
trre difference between him and John Nelson, whom he 
heard preach at Aberford Cross, who, when impressed 
for a? soldier, said to those who were decking him in 
military attire, " You may array me as a man of war, 
but I shall never fight." But whether Samuel had taken 
the field or not, he would have given the £600 as 
cheerfully as he ever gave sixpence to a destitute 
widow. 

Leaving the great continental field, where the thun- 
derbolt of war was seen turning up the soil like a 
ploughshare, and where the military tempest appeared 
to be gradually clearing the air and settling the political 
atmosphere — with which events it would have appeared 
ridiculous to name such an insignificant being as Sa- 
muel, had it not been for his loyal address — we shall 
direct our attention to a slight skirmish of another de- 
scription, nearer his own homestead, and see how he 
was skilled in the military tactics requisite for the occa- 
sion, " I remember," he observes, " a great out- 
pouring of the Lord's Spirit at Ledstone, near where I 
resided ; and in that town there lived a parliament man, 
who was a justice of peace." This " parliament man" 
was no other than Michael Angelo Taylor, Esq., who 
has distinguished himself in the senate on several mea- 
sures for the amelioration of the metropolitan police, 
and different other questions. One evening during the 

l 2 



114 THK VILLAGK BLACKSMITH. 

revival referred to, Mr. T. vvas passing the place, whicr* 
was licensed for preaching, and in which the people 
were met for public worship. On hearing an unusual 
noise he stepped up to the door; and not being over and 
above skilled in the science of salvation, or having hi& 
ear tuned for the music of penitential groans, he, accor- 
ding to the testimony of Samuel, " stamped and swore, " 
declaring he would have them " all taken up," calling 
out meanwhile for a "constable." Mr. T. addressed 
a farmer who acted in that capacity, and told him he 
would have no such disturbance in the parish. A good 
sister who was present began to pray for Mr. T. r repeat- 
ing several times, " Lord, bless him !" Mr. T., on the 
other hand, elevating his voice to an unusual pitch, told 
her to cease her noise ; " but she," says Samuel, " like 
the blind man, cried out the more." Mr. T., however, 
at length succeeded in " breaking up the meeting." 
This vvas a severe trial to Samuel, who says, " I went 
home, but could get very little rest. The next morning 
I went to our class-leader, and told him that I could not 
rest till I went to Mr. T. to inform him he had broken 
the laws of our land." His class-leader was Mr. 
Rhodes, who, partly to deter Samuel, from an impres- 
sion of the possibility of the case, hinted that Mr. T, 
would commit him to the House of Correction. Samuel 
replied, " I have the Lord on my side, and the law on 
my side, and I do not fear the face of a man." His 
firmness gave confidence to Mr. Rhodes, who agreed to 
accompany him. They both set off, and arriving at Mr. 
T.'s before he had come down stairs in the morning,, 
were ushered into the " servants' hall." There they 
remained till summoned into the presence-chamber. 
Mr. T., on descending to breakfast, had been informed 
of their visit. On entering the room, he had, says 
Samuel, " a very stormy countenance." The substance 
of the conversation, as left on record, is as follows: 
Mr. T. " Well, Hick, what do you want ?" 
Samuel. " I want, if you please, to worship God 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 116 

cinder my own vine and fig-tree, no man daring to make 
me afraid, or disturb me in the worship of God. And, 
Sir, I am come to inform you, as one of his Majesty's 
peace- makers, that last night you broke the laws of the 
land, and that the law stands in force against you. But 
we, as a body of people, do not love law. We are de- 
termined, however, to have the liberty our king grants 
to us. The place which we were worshipping in is 
from the king, as it is licensed : and I believe there 
is a double penalty for your breaking the law." 

Mr. T. " I know you very well ; you are in the 
habit of travelling from place to place to preach : but 
I have the outline of a bill, which will be brought into 
Parliament, and which will at once put a stop to all 
such fellows, and prevent them from going about. I 
will make you remain in your own parish, and go to 
your own church." 

Samuel. " Bless the Lord ! Sir, you cannot stop us. 
It is the work of God ; and, unless you can prevent the 
sun from shining, you cannot stop it. You say you 
will make us go to our own parish church. It is more 
than three miles off. It is true, we have a Chapel of 
Ease ; but the minister comes to it only twice in the 
year : and we cannot live, Sir, with such food as this :" 
that is, with so small a portion. 

Mr. 1\ " What ! have you only two sermons 
preached in the year ?" 

Samuel. " No, Sir ; and he would not come then, 
only he cannot get his Easter dues without coming." 

Here the servant in attendance, and Mr. Rhodes, 
could support it no longer, but burst into a fit of 
laughter, and left the room. Mr. Taylor, who' appeared 
not to have known that the place was licensed in which 
he was the night before, and to have assumed the 
character of sternness for the purpose of drawing Sa- 
muel out into conversation, called upon Mr. Rhodes to- 
enter the room again, asking why he went out ? Mr. 
R. apologized, and stated, that ^ could not refrain 



116 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

from laughing, and withdrew to avoid a breach of good 
behaviour. Mr. T., accosting him, said, "You know, 
Mr. Rhodes, the old man wants a license to preach. 
This I cannot grant in my individual capacity. But he 
and you may go to Bradford next Thursday ; ask for 
the clerk of the court, and tell him you want a license 
for a dissenting minister. He will there receive it ; and 
if, after that, any one should disturb- either of you, in- 
form me, and I will defend you." This was too much 
for Samuel to bear in silence ; and, without suffering 
Mr. R. to reply, he permitted that chord of the heart 
which had just been struck, to give out its fullest and 
wildest tones, saluting Mr. T. with, " Bless the Lord ! 
tHey give you a sore character in our country, but I 
think you are not so bad as they say you are." This, 
by a thousand men, w T ould have been taken, as it might 
have been given, as an insult. But Mr. T., as he knew 
Samuel, had the good sense to give to it its real value, 
and passed it off in pleasantry. After this, proceeds 
Samuel, " I believe he would have granted me any 
favour. He sent down to the farmer also, in whose 
house the meeting was held, and told him, if he was in 
want of any thing from his house or gardens, it should 
be at his service. So we see, when a man's ways 
please the Lord, he makes his enemies to be at peace 
with him." 

Samuel went too far in considering Mr. T. an enemy ; 
for had he really been such, he would have pursued a 
different line of conduct. Simple, however, as the 
whole of this occurrence was, sufficient matter arose 
out of it to attract the attention of the British senate ; 
for as the " two sermons" per annum in a " chapel of 
ease," led, from the easy character of the labour, to an 
investigation of other instances of gross neglect, so it 
gave Mr. T. an opportunity of stating in the house the 

ecessity there was for the ecclesiastical authorities to 
enquire, whether the different places belonging to the 
Establishment wer#|>roperly supplied with religious in- 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 117 

structors, noticing the case of which he was informed 
by Samuel, arguing from thence, that it was not to be 
wondered that a " blacksmith" in Yorkshire, should ap- 
ply to him for a licence to authorise him to preach as a 
dissenting minister. When one of the newspapers was 
handed to Samuel, in which the fact was stated, and the 
allusion made, he was not a little elated, and in his sim- 
plicity could even connect with the circumstance, in a 
way in which no one beside himself could do, the " go- 
vernment churches," which were soon afterwards erect- 
ed ; and would have as soon — for such was his know- 
ledge of the politics and ecclesiastical history of the day 
— attributed every new edifice to that,, as to any other 
cause. Though some of these goodly structures were 
not very well attended, he was far from viewing them as 
useless : " They will be ready," said he, " for the 
Millennium, when it comes ; for we shall want them 
then :" not that he really wished any other religious 
body to enjoy them ; but he was confident they were 
not erected in vain. He generally spoke respectfully 
of the Church of England, and indulged a pleasing hope 
that she would rise to be more holy, active, and useful^, 
than she had ever been. 



118 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITBv 



CHAPTER VIlT. 

His power in prayer — divine impressions.... an afflicting providence.. .v 
remarkable answers to prayer. .. .familiar expressions in prayer to be avoid- 
ed — encounters a blacksmith.... his usefulness — his meekness under per 
gecution — singular method of self-defence against the aspersions of a' 
clergyman . . . . Musical Festivals — perfection — seasonable remarks — the 
doctrine of sanctification maintained in opposition to a clergyman — cheer- 
ful disposition — indiscretionate zeal in a meeting of the Society of Friends. 

That which imparted real elevation of character to 
Samuel, was, his strong faith and his power with God 
in prayer : and here it is, that he was seen rising out 
of the habiliments of the blacksmith, surrounded by the 
visitants, stunned with the din, and enveloped in the 
smoke of the smithy, like a being belonging to another 
world, gradually unfolding himself, or suddenly break- 
ing upon the spectators in the true spirit of an angel of 
light. A few instances have been adduced of his power 
in prayer on his own behalf; but he still has to be ! 
viewed- itt the character of a successful intercessor. 

He had an impression upon his mind, one day, that' 
he ought to go to the coal-pit, for what he termed " a' 
load of sleek."* But having a tolerable stock in the 
smithy, he hesitated, and attempted to suppress it. The 
impression was renewed, and— " Go, go," was reitera- 
ted, as by a voice from within. " I'll pray about it," 
said he to himself. But " go" was still the language 
which he seemed to hear while engaged upon his knees. 
He rose and told his wife he was going for a load of 

* The refuse or smaller part of the coal, used in furnaces, &c* 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 119 

" sleek." She, as was natural, opposed him, pointing 
*o the heap in the smithy, as a substantial reason why 
he should stop at home. But his argument was in his 
heart, and to this he attended, yoking the horse to the 
cart, and driving off to the pit, without any thing to sup- 
port his conduct, except the naked impression specified. 
On reaching the spot, a person exclaimed, in a state of 
great trepidation, " Ay, Sammy, you are well come ; 
such a one (mentioning the person's name) has been 
nearly killed, and we want you to pray with him !" The 
poor sufferer had just been brought up from the pit when 
he arrived ; and the persons around him were about to 
.extract a piece of wood which had fallen upon him, 
penetrated his shoulder, and forced its way, like the 
spear of Abner, through the opposite side of his body. 
On perceiving their intentions from their conduct, Sa- 
muel said, in a hurried tone, " Do not take it out ; if 
you do, he will die in a moment."* The spirit of prayer 
was the element in which he breathed : and for such 
employment he was always ready. He knelt by the 
side of the poor man, wrestled with God for his salva- 
tion, and obtained satisfactory evidence of an answer to 
the petitions he presented at the throne of grace. " I 
now saw," says he, " for what it was that I had to go 
to the pit." And yet 5 with this result, there are persons 
professing the Christian name, who would denounce the 
impression as enthusiastic, and who would, together 
with the calamity, iiffsert his being at the pit at that pre- 
cise period, in the chapter of accidents, which occupies, 

* How he became possessed of this opinion, or whether he had 
-entertained it any length of time, is difficult to state ; but it is 
not a little singular to find, that it is in consonance with the 
notions and practices of some of our ancestors, who, in tourna- 
ments and ancient combats, frequently permitted the shaft of 
death, which had been propelled through the body, to remain 
there for a short time, with a view to staunch the blood to a cer- 
tain extent — when the wound was deemed mortal, till the person 
should be enabled to express his last will in the settlement of his 
affairs. 



120 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

in their estimation, so large a share of the business of 
human life. Only preserve religion in the back-ground, 
or abstract it entirely from the subject, and these persons 
will talk both seriously and poetically, of the mind being 
darkened, like the sunny landscape, by a sudden cloud, 
auguring a coming tempest ; and of such impulses de- 
serving attention, as being the hints of our guardian 
spirits that danger is impending. All this is allowable in 
verse, and the poet is admired for the sentiment ; while 
the heathen philosopher is permitted to descant upon it 
in prose: but the moment the man of God asserts the 
fact — from whom the others have received it, either di- 
rectly or remotely, and afterwards marred, by lowering 
it — he must be sent through the world with the brand of 
an enthusiast upon his forehead ! 

A circumstance not less remarkable occurred at Pon- 
tefract, — a place where Samuel was highly respected, 
and where he deeply interested himself in the erection 
of a new chapel. It was agreed, in order to aid the 
collection at the opening, that each collector should de- 
posit a sovereign in his box, and that the collectors 
should be changed each service. Samuel entered into 
the plan with his native ardour, and promoted, in various 
instances, its accomplishment. On recollecting the 
names of friends who were likely to afford aid, he im- 
mediately proceeded to their residences, and accosted 
them : ■" Why, the friends are bown to open a new cha- 
pel in Pontefract : you intend to befchere, don't you, and 
to be a collector?" To this exordium he appended the 
plan, closing it with a personal application, — " You ap- 
prove of it, dont you ?" In cases of approval, accom. 
panied with a doubt whether there would be an oppor- 
tunity to attend, he generally relieved them by observ- 
ing, " I will tell you what you must do ; you must give 
me a sovereign, and I will get some one to collect for 
you." Such was his success, by this mode of proce- 
dure, that, on the day of opening, he handed over to 
the treasurer nearly twenty pounds. On the morning, 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH, 121 

he took his seat previous to the commencement of the 
service in a pew near the pulpit, He had promised 
himself much enjoyment, and was just sipping of its 
streams while glancing upon the collecting worshippers, 
when he suddenly became unaccountably discomposed. 
He vacated his seat, and, taking up his hat, directed his 
steps to the gallery, where he placed himself by the side 
of a young lady in one of the front pews. It was in = 
stantly suggested, " Thou hast done it now, — perched 
in the front for every body to look at thee, — they will 
think it is nothing but pride that has led thee here." The 
chapel was now exceedingly crowded ; and no sooner 
was his soliloquy ended than the congregation was 
thrown into a state of the utmost confusion by an un- 
founded alarm respecting the safety of the building. 
The young lady who sat next him leaped on the top of 
ihe^ew, and was in the act of precipitating herself into 
the body of the chapel, when Samuel, with a prompti- 
tude equalled only by his composure, prevented her, by 
taking her in his arms, exhorting her at the same time 
to " be still," saying, " I would rather die in a Metho- 
dist Chapel than anywhere else." He now saw, as in 
the case of the poor collier, a reason for the feeling 
which induced him to leave his first seat and occupy 
another of such prominence. An immortal spirit was in 
all probability saved, in the first instance, from perdi- 
tion ; human life, in the second, from a premature grave. 
The female is still living, and a member of the Wes- 
leyan Society. 

In the course of a summer of excessive drought, a 
few years back, when the grain suffered greatly, and 
many of the cattle, especially in Lincolnshire, died, 
Samuel was much affected. He visited Knaresborough, 
at which place he preached on the Lord's Day. Re- 
maining in the town and neighbourhood over the Sab- 
bath, he appeared extremely restless in the house in 
which he resided, during the whole of Monday. He 
spoke but little — was full of thought — now praying — 

M 



122 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

now walking about the room — next sitting in a crouch- 
ing posture — then suddenly starting up, and going to the 
door, turning his eyes towards heaven, as if looking for 
some celestial phenomenon — when he would again re- 
turn, groan in spirit, and resume his seat. The family, 
being impressed with his movements, asked him whether 
anything was the matter with him, or whether he ex- 
pected any person, as the occasion of his going to the 
door so frequently ? " Bless you, barns" was his re- 
ply, " do you not recollect that I was praying for rain 
last night in the pulpit? and what will the infidels at 
Knaresborough think, if it do not come ? — if my Lord 
should fail me, and not stand by me ? But it must have 
time ; it cannot be here yet ; it has to come from the 
sea. Neither can it be seen at first ; the prophet only 
saw a bit of cloud, like a man's hand ; by and by it 
spread along the sky. I am looking for an answer to 
my prayer — but it must have time." He continued in 
the same unsettled state — occasionally going out, and 
looking with intensity on the pure azure over his head ; 
for a more unclouded heaven was rarely ever seen. 
Contrary to all external signs of rain, and contrary to 
the expectations of all, except himself, the sky became 
overcast towards evening, and the clouds dropt the fat- 
ness of a shower upon the earth. His very soul seemed 
to drink in the falling drops. The family grouped 
around him, like children round their father, while he 
<gave out his favourite hymn — " I'll praise my Maker 
while I've breath ;" and after singing it, with a counte- 
nance all a-glow through the sunshine of heaven upon 
his soul, he knelt down and prayed. All were over- 
powered : it was a season of refreshing from the pre- 
sence of the Lord. • 

If this relation had concerned another man than the 
subject of the Memoir, the biographer would have been 
incredulous enough to have suspended his judgment, — 
possibly to have doubted, — and would have been led to 
^enquire, whether, by some particular signs, the person 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 123 

might not have prognosticated a change. But Samuel 
was too artless to be suspected — too sincere to practise 
impositions — and his knowledge was too circumscribed 
to subject him to the charge of being " weather-wise." 
He was unable to see so far as Columbus, who, in ano- 
ther case, astonished and preserved a portion of the 
inhabitants of the New World in awe, by being able to 
foretel, through his astronomical knowledge, a meteoro- 
logical appearance. Samuel had no weather glass upon 
which to look, except the Bible, in which he was 
taught to believe and expect tliat for which he prayed ; 
nothing on which he could depend but God, and his 
faith was set in God for rain^ This, like some other 
instances which have been noticed, is a beautiful ex- 
emplification of the simplicity of Christianity as it exists- 
in its effects in an uncultivated mind ; the person re- 
ceiving every fact of scripture history as an undoubted* 
truth of God, given for the encouragement, the convic- 
tion,* and the instruction of all future ages, whether it 
refers to the improvement of the mass of mankind or 
the individual. 

In perfect character with the preceding remarkable- 
fact, connected with the element of water, is another, 
respecting the element of air, both of which may yet 
be attested by living witnesses ; and which ought not to 
be beyond the reach of credibility, if we believe there 
is a God — that he has power over the works of his own 
hands — and that he employs the elements, not only as 
general sources of felicity, but on particular occasions 
unbinds them in their operations, and lets them loose 
upon man, either as a special blessing or as a special 
scourge, in order to prevent common good from being 
looked ifpon with an eye of indifference. Samuel was 
at Knottingly, a populous village in the neighbourhood 
of Ferrybridge, in 1817, where he took occasion to in- 
form his hearers that there would be a love-feast at 
Micklefield, on a certain day, when he should be glad 
to see all who were entitled to that privilege. He fur- 



124 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

ther observed, with his usual frankness and generosity, 
that he had two loads* of corn,"]" and that they should be 
ground for the occasion. These comprised the whole 
of the corn left of the previous year's produce. When, 
therefore, he returned home, and named his general 
invitation and intention, Martha, who had as deep an 
interest in it as himself, enquired very expressively, 
" And didst thou tell them, when all the corn was done, 
how we were to get through the remainder of the sea- 
son, till another crop should be reaped ¥ r "' To-morrow" 
alas ! rarely entered into Samuel's- calculations, unless 
connected with the church. The day fixed for the love- 
feast drew near — there was no flour in the house — and 
the wind-mills, in consequence of* a long calm, stretched 
out their arms in vain to catch the rising breeze. In 
the midst of this death-like quiet, Samuel carried his 
corn to the mill nearest his own residence, and re- 
quested the miller to unfurl his sails. The 1 miller ob- 
jected, stating that there was " no wind." Samuel, on 
the other hand, continued to urge his request, saying, " I 
will go and pray while you spread the cloth." More with 
a view of gratifying the applicant than of any faith he 
had in Him who holds the natural winds in his fists, and 
who answers the petitions of his creatures, the man 
stretched his canvass. No sooner had he done this, 
than, to his utter astonishment, a fine breeze sprung up 
— the fans whirled round — the corn was converted into 
meal — and Samuel returned with his burthen, rejoicing, 
and had every thing in readiness for the festival. A 
neighbour who had seen the fans in vigorous motion, 
took also some corn to be ground ; but the wind had 
dropped, and the miller remarked to him, " You must 
send for Sammy Hick to pray for the wind to blow 
again." 

* A load of corn at Mieklefield, signifies six strokes, or three 
bushels. 

t Wheat. 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 125 

Few circumstances, perhaps, can be adduced, more 
characteristic of Samuel, than a remark which he made 
in reference to the man who " went down from Jeru* 
salem to Jericho, and fell among thieves." After com- 
menting on the situation of the poor sufferer — for all 
was real history to Samuel — he glanced at the conduct 
of the Priest, the Levite, and the Samaritan. Speak- 
ing particularly of the priest, he endeavoured to apolo- 
gize for him as far as he conscientiously could, by inti- 
mating that he might have been " poor," in consequence 
of priests not having such " big livings" then, as in the 
present day. Turning at length, however, upon hi* 
piety, he quaintly and pointedly remarked, " Bad as* 
the Levite was, the Priest was the worst of the two ; 
for, admitting him to have been without money, he 
might have said to the wounded man, ' Come, we'll 
have a bit of prayer together!'" There is a volume 
contained in this single sentence, on the habit of devo- 
tion, which Samuel constantly carried about with him - T 
and had it been a scene of real life, and himself one of 
the actors, he would have been seen sidling up to the 
sufferer, whether on the highway or at the market cross?,, 
— afterwards devoutly kneeling, and with uplifted hands 
and heart pleading with the Most High for healing and 
strength. 

His prayers were not restricted to man. He saw as 
great propriety in praying for the restoration of cattle 
that might be afflicted with any particular distemper, as 
in soliciting the divine blessing upon the fruits of the 
field, and the seasons of the year. Thus it was, on a 
particular occasion, that he associated his own horse 
with the cow of a friend, in his devotions, both of which 
were unwell ; — in every thing, in supplication and pray- 
er, making his requests known to the Lord. 

There were instances, however, of familiarity of ex- 
pression, which, though not criminal in him, ought to be< 
avoided ; and also something in his manner, which was 
calculated to disturb the solemnities of domestic wor- 

m2 



12G THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

ship. He was in a friend's house, where he was intro- 
duced to the company of a minister, the Rev. A. L., 
who, he had heard, was paying his addresses to a 
young lady, and to Mr. U., a solicitor. On Mr. XL's 
name and profession being announced, he looked ask- 
ance at him, as upon an object for which he might be 
charged for the bestowment of a passing glance, quickly 
turning away his head, and muttering, " Hem, a tor- 
ney /" He was soon absorbed in thought ; and when 
urged to help himself to a glass of wine, he took it up, 
and, on applying it to his lip, as if the apparition of Mr. 
U. had shot quickly past him, he said, " From tornies 
and lawyers, good Lord, deliver us !" Mr. U., who 
knew to what reflections the profession was subject, 
avoided any observation. The case, however, was not 
dismissed : Samuel was called upon to go to prayer. 
After generalizing his petitions, he took up each case 
separately, praying that Mr. A. L. might be happy 
enough to obtain " a good wife," as the marriage state 
was "the best." He next prayed for the conversion of 
Mr. U., saying, " Lord, save this torney. What he is 
thou knowest, — I know not ; but when he is saved, he 
will not charge folk so much money for their jobs. 
Thou hast saved an attorney at Longpre&ton, and he 
gets as good a living as any of them. Lord, save this 
man." After this, he proceeded to pray for the family, 
mingling, as is too often the case, rebuke, exhortation, 
&c. with prayer. This is not the most " excellent 
way :" besides, covmrds very often avail themselves, 
under the guise of devotion, of letting off their bad 
feeling against their fellow Christians in this "way," 
by praying at them, instead of supplicating mercy for 
them. In Samuel, it was a weakness inseparable from 
his nature. Ill-will had no place in him ; and his native 
courage never failed him, as the following circumstance 
goes to prove : 

A person of his own trade, who resided a few miles 
from Howden, entered the place where he was preach- 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 127 

ing, in a state of inebriation, and made some disturb- 
ance. Samuel, and some of the people, expostulated 
with him, but without effecting any good end. Finding 
that gentler means failed, he went up to him, and by 
his own masculine grasp, forced him to the door. But 
this, alas ! was a greater expenditure of peace, than a 
display of strength. He felt "something wrong with- 
in," he observed, and could find no rest, on his return 
from worship. He made his case known to God, and 
wrestled — as though he had been the greater criminal 
of the two — till he recovered his peace. This being 
obtained, he retired to sleep. The subject, however, 
was not dismissed from his mind. When he rose in the 
morning, he found that he could not be perfectly com- 
posed in his spirit, till he went to the man, to ask par- 
don ; for though he had settled the dispute between God 
and his conscience, he knew there was something due 
to the sinner, who might draw unfavourable inferences 
from his example. The man was ashamed of his con- 
duct, and could not but admire the spirit of Samuel, 
who embraced the opportunity of seriously conversing 
with, and praying for him. Not only were good im- 
pressions made upon the mind of the aggressor, but his 
wife, who was under deep conviction of sin, entered, 
during that prayer, into the glorious liberty of the child- 
ren of God. 

When he only was concerned, and the interruption of 
others was out of the question, Samuel could, on the 
other hand, sustain any hardship, any insult, with ex- 
emplary meekness and forbearance ; and his strongest 
graces were often put to the test. A young lady, who 
had been known to him from her childhood, and whose 
palfrey had lost a 3hoe r called at his shop to have it 
replaced. She appeared delicate. He looked compas- 
sionately upon her, and asked, " Dost thou know, barn, 
whether thou hast a soul ?" Startled with the question, 
she looked in return ; but before she was permitted to 
reply, he said, " Thou hast one, whether thou knowest 



128 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. » 

it or not ; and it will live in happiness or misery for 
ever." These, and other remarks, produced serious 
reflections. . Her father perceived from her manner, on 
her return home — her residence being not far from 
Samuel's dwelling — that something was preying upon 
her spirits. She told him the cause : " What," he ex- 
claimed, " has that old blacksmith been at thee, to turn 
thy head? but I will whack (beat) him." So saying, he 
took up a large stick, similar to a hedge. stake — left the 
house — posted off to Samuel's residence — found him at 
the anvil — and without the least intimation, fetched him 
a heavy blow on the side, which, said Samuel, when 
relating the circumstance, " nearly felled me to the 
ground ;" adding, " and it was not a little that would 
have done it in those days." On receiving the blow, 
he turned round, and said, " What art thou about man ? 
what is that for?" Supposing it to be out of revenge, 
and that religion was the cause of it, he made a sudden 
wheel, and lifting up his arm, inclined the other side to 
his enraged assailant, saying, "Here man, hit that too." 
But either his courage tailed him, or he was softened by 
the manner in which the blow was received ; beholding 
in Samuel a real disciple of Him who said, "Whosoever 
shall smite thee on the right cheek, turn to him the 
other also." He then left him ; and Samuel had the 
happiness of witnessing the progress of religion in the 
daughter. Some time after this, the person himself was 
taken ill, and Samuel was sent for. He was shewn into 
the chamber, and looking on the sick man, he asked, 
" What is the matter with thee ? art thou bown to die ?" 
He stretched out his arm to Samuel, and said, "Will 
you forgive me?" Not recollecting the circumstance 
for the moment, Samuel asked, "^What for? I have 
nothing against thee, barn, nor any man living." The 
case being noticed, the question was again asked, 
"Will you forgive me?" "Forgive thee, barn? I tell 
thee 1 have nothing against thee ! But if thou art about 
to die, we will pray a bit, an4 see if the Lord will for- 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 129 

give thee." Samuel knelt by the side of the couch, 
and the dying man united with him : and from the peni- 
tence, fervour, and gratitude which he manifested, there 
was hope in his death. The daughter continued an 
object of his solicitude ; she grew up to womanhood, — 
became a mother, — and he afterwards exulted to see 
her and two of her daughters members of the Wesleyan 
Society. Four conversions are here to be traced, in 
regular succession, and attributable apparently to a 
word fitly and seasonably spoken, by one of the weak 
things of this world, becoming mighty through God. 

Samuel appeared, in many cases, to have the power 
of accommodating his conduct to the characters and occa- 
sions which demanded his attention, and that too in a 
way which his mental faculties would scarcely warrant; 
for while he would employ muscular force in a case 
where the intellect was impaired by the abuse of intoxi- 
cating liquors, and bear with meekness the arm of flesh 
upon himself, for righteousness' sake, he would at the 
same time defend himself against the tongue of slander, 
and subdue, by Christian means, any improper feeling 
he might perceive in the professors of Christianity 
themselves. A singular instance of self-defence occur- 
red in the course of one of his journeysv He was re- 
turning home by way of Aberford, in a stage coach. A 
clergyman, and some ladies of fashion, were his com- 
panions. They were on their way to the grand Musi- 
cal Fesiival held in York Mi-nster. The clergyman ex- 
patiated on the delights of the occasion, the innocence* 

* An article in the Christian Ohserver of 1821, p. 250, ofwliicrr 
the following is an extract, demands attention ; and the more so, 
as, from the medium of publication; it shews the view which the 
evangelical part of his brethren take of the subject: 

" It appears to me that it is not lawful for Christians to attend 
a concert of Sacred Music in a Church for charitable purposes, 
either as respects the performances, the performers, or the place. 
Music is, strictly speaking, 'sacred' only, when employed in the 
worship of God, of which the song of praise and thanksgiving 
forms one of the most delightful parts. Its animating and elcva- 



130 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

of such enjoyments, and the benevolence of the object. 
He observed, that he knew of no class of persons who 
would venture to hazard an objection against such 
amusements, except a few " canting Methodists." He 
then took occasion to launch out some violent invectives 
against the body, insisting on their incapacity to form a 
judgment in such cases, from the circumstance of the 
members belonging to the lowest classes of society, 

ting influences many Christians can abundantly testify, who hiva 
sometimes, when joining a large congregation in one united 
chorus, been almost ready to imagine that they caught the faint 
echo of those immortal strains, which cherubim and seraphim 
pour fourth in honour of the celestial King. But of the per- 
formers of these public oratorios it seems almost impossible, even 
for that charity which hoped all things, not to fear, that with 
them the prayer of penitence, or the glow of gratitude, the rap- 
ture of hope, or the triumph of faith, are nothing more than idle 
words — a solemn mockery of him who demands the homage of 
the heart, and declares that he * will not hold him guiltless that 
taketh his name in vain.' Their object is gain, and that of their 
auditors amusement. 

"The worship of God is not for a moment in the thoughts of 
the assembly: yet for this express purpose, and this alone, was 
the house of God prepared. It is written in the Old Testament, 
and the obligation of the precept is confirmed by the authority of 
our Saviour in the New, * My house shall be called of all nations 
a house of prayer:' and did he who once drove the buyers and 
sellers out of the Jewish temple now dwell among us in a human 
form, we can, I think, scarcely imagine that the votaries of plea- 
sure would be regarded by him with a more lenient eye than the 
lovers of gain. To buy and sell is lawful, and so may music be j 
but it is not lawful to desecrate the sanctuary of God by applying 
it to any secular purpose whatever. 

•' To the enquiry, * Is it lawful for Christians to attend a per- 
formance of music of a moral tendency, mixed with sacred, or 
of sacred only, within the walls of a theatre?' I again answer, 
No. If in the former instance the performance be a profanation 
of the place, in this the performance is polluted by the place. 
And the most strenuous advocates for theatrical exhibitions can- 
not deny that they are inseparably attended by a fearful train of 
incidental evils, all of which remain in equally active and equally 
destructive operation, whether the audience be attracted by the 
genius of Handel or Shakesnear. 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 131 

finally denouncing them as a set of hypocrites and va- 
gabonds. Samuel, who had hitherto avoided obtruding 
his remarks upon the party, could brook it no longer. 
He considered himself implicated in the general charge, 
and his spirit rose indignantly at it : " Sir," said he, " I 
am a Methodist. I am going to the place where I was 
born, and where I am well known; and I will make you 
prove your words, Sir." The clergyman was a little 

14 The natural tendency of music is, to cheer the spirits when 
oppressed by study or fatigue, and to soothe the temper irritated 
by the little vexations of life. It supplies a never-failing source 
of innocent recreation, and generally proves an additional bond 
of family attachment. Every advantage, however, which music 
lias to bestow, may be obtained in private. Should it therefore 
be conceded, that it is lawful for Christians to attend the concerts 
of miscellaneous music performed in the Hanover. Square Rooms 
or elsewhere, I think it must be maintained that it is by no means 
expedient to do so. 

** If it be possible that these musical entertainments rank among 
those ' pomps and vanities' which we pledged ourselves by our 
baptismal covenant to renounce — if they have any tendency to 
make the every.day duties and occupations of life comparatively 
insipid — -if by this indulgence we tread upon the frontier line, 
which separates the lawful enjoyment from the unlawful compli- 
ance — if by thus advancing to the brink of a precipice, we become 
liable to fall headlong in some unguarded moment— or though we 
can tread the dizzy height in safety, should others, following our 
example, stumble and fall — where is the christian that can hesitate 
an instant, between the gratification of an hour, and the risk of 
incurring any one of these awful possibilities ? It is always 
dangerous to be conformed to this world — always safe to deny 
ourselves, to take up our cross and follow our Redeemer. It 
would be less inconsistent for the philosopher to covet the toys 
of infancy, than it is for the member of Christ, the child of God, 
and the inheritor of the kingdom of heaven, anxiously to desire 
even the most elegant and refined of the pleasures of sense. He 
should ever remember that he is not his own. His fortune, his 
time, his talents, his influence, his example, must all be devoted 
to the glory of God. Remembering the exhortation of our Lord, 
* Watch and pray, lest ye enter into temptation,' he desires not 
to widen the narrow path which leadeth unto life eternal, but to 
obtain grace to pursue it with patient perseverance ; knowing 
that so only shall an entrance be administered unto him abun- 
dantly of his Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.' n 



132 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

confounded by this sudden burst of expression, and had 
no expectation of being so suddenly and unceremoni- 
ously subpoened to appear as a witness in his own de- 
fence. It was in vain to attempt the hackneyed method 
of parrying off the reflection by exempting the present 
company. The character of the body was as dear to 
Samuel as his own ; and he continued to bore the rev- 
erend gentleman, till the coach stopped at the door of 
the inn at Aberford. The innkeeper was in immediate 
attendance, when Samuel and the clergyman alighted, 
the latter being little aware — as under a contrary im- 
pression he would have probably retained his inside 
birth — that the subject wouid be again agitated. Sam- 
uel accosted the master of the house, with no common 
earnestness and gesticulation, saying, "You know me, 
.don't you?" and before he had time to receive a distinct 
l*eply in the affirmative, pressed nearly into the same 
breath, the grand question, of which the other was only 
the precursor, — " Am I a hypocrite or a vagabond ?" 
" No, Samuel/' was the reply: "you are known all 
round here, as an honest, hard-working man." To this 
'Samuel responded, — " I work for all I have, pay every 
fcody their own, and get nothing for preaching." He 
then pointed to the clergyman, and recapitulated what 
he had said. The inkeeper, not knowing the cause of 
.Samuel's interrogatories before, and seeing a probable 
.customer in the clergyman, was not very anxious to 
proceed with his answers ; and the clergyman, unwil- 
ling to confirm his delinquency by retiring, stood a 
short time. Samuel's earnest appeals in the mean time 
attracted attention ; the people thickened around them, 
in front of the inn ; he proceeded to dwell on the charg- 
es, and to point to the clergyman, as going to spend his 
time and his money at the concert. The clergyman 
found himself so much annoyed by the looks, the jokes, 
and remarks of the crowd, who encouraged Samuel in 
his zeal for character, that he was glad when the horses 
Rere changed, and he found himself safely seated by 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 133 

*f*e side of the ladies, reaping instruction, no doubt, 
from the event, though not much enamoured with the 
uncourteous manner in which his fellow-traveller had 
defended himself. 

Though the clergyman's opinion of the low-bred 
character of the Methodists was not likely to be much 
improved by the specimen with which he had just been 
favoured, yet it was only the rougher side of Samuel's 
integrity of which he had a view, and which his own 
rasping had raised. Samuel was much better qualified 
to repress and correct improper feeling, than to combat 
erroneous notions. 

Though he often, overcame opposing feelings by 
prayer, for which he was better qualified than for hold- 
ing a long parley on opinion ; yet on subjects proposed 
by a querist, he would change two or three sharp 
rounds on a controverted point. " I have often been 
struck," says Mr. Dawson, " at the promptness and pro- 
priety of his replies, to persons who have proposed 
objections and questions to him upon particular subjects, 
and in peculiar cases. He manifested some astonishing 
gleams of sanctified satire, when directed to a person or 
a subject, which penetrated deep into the heart ; while 
sparkles of holy wit would touch the risible faculties, 
and thrill a delight through the soul of the hearer, 
which neither debased his understanding nor his affec- 
tions. A ray of light would sometimes dart from him 
in a moment, which would instantly scatter the shades 
and remove the scruples from an enquiring mind. Of 
this peculiarity of talent he himself was insensible : all 
was spontaneous and natural." While this citation 
comes in as evidence of what has been stated, it may 
be further illustrated by other striking instances of 
quickness of perception, discrimination, and point. 

Having business to transact which bore hard upon his 
patience, and seeing the person who was agent for him 
in the transaction going about with the utmost delibera- 
tion, with countenance and temper as serene as the 

N 



134 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

unruffled lake, he seemed uncomfortable in the pres- 
ence of such superiority ; and yet, unwilling to unchris- 
tianize himself, as well as sensible of the kindly feeling 
he possessed towards the persons who were the occa- 
sion of his exercises, he said, " We are both perfect ; 
you are perfect in patience^ and I am perfect in tove." 
Though the theology of this is questionable, as a gene- 
ral position, yet in its particular application to Samuel, 
there is more truth in it than at first might appear ; for 
if he excelled in any one branch of " th« fruit of the 
.Spirit," it was in love. 

To a gentleman labouring under great nervous de- 
pression, whom he had visited, ^nd who was moving 
along the streets as though he was apprehensive that 
every step would shake his system in pieces, he was 
rendered singularly useful. They met ; and Samuel, 
having a deeper interest in the soul than the body, 
asked, " Well, how are you getting on your way to 
heaven?" The poor invalid, in a dejected, half-des- 
pouding tone, replied, "But slowly, I fear;" intimating 
that he was creeping along only at a snail's pace. 
"Why, bless you, barn" returned Samuel, "there 
were snails in the ark." The reply was so earnest, so 
unexpected, and met the dis-spirited man so immedi- 
ately on his own ground, that the temptation broke 
away, and he rose out of his depression. It was a 
resurrection to his feelings ; inferring, that if the snail 
reached the ark, he too, "faint, yet pursuing," might 
gain admission into heaven. 

Perhaps one of his happiest conquests in oral contro- 
versy was obtained over the Rev. K., of Leeds, a 

gentleman of great shrewdness and learning. They 
were both on board a Selby steam-packet, going down 
the river towards Hull. Samuel was walking the deck, 
and humming over a hymn tune, which appeared to 
attract the attention of Mr. K., who abrubtly opened out 
upon him on the evils of Methodism, suspecting him to 
Jielong to that body, from the character of the music 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 135 

He insisted on the mischief it had done by the tenets it 
propagated, particularly instancing the doctrine of sane- 
tification, for which, he contended, there was no founda- 
tion. Though Samuel did not appear to be personally 
known to Mr. K., yet Mr. K. was not unknown to him ; 
to whom he instantly returned, " See that you never 
read the Church Prayers again, for I am sure there is 
full sanetijkation' in them." " No such thkig," was the 
reply. " What," said Samuel, " do you not pray that 
the Lord would cleanse the thoughts of the heart by the 
inspiration of the Holy Spirit 1 — See that you do not 
read that, Sir, next Sunday." Mr. K. finding himself 
pressed from this high quarter, and partly conceding 
the principle, by flying to what he deemed its effects, 
asked, " What good has the doctrine done ?" gliding, 
as a diversion of the subject, into the general topic of 
Methodism again ; demanding, " What have the Metho* 
dists effected ? Bad women are on the increase ; Leeds 
is swarming with them," "How is that?" enquired 
Samuel: "I was in Leeds the other week, and never 
met with one." "I know," rejoined Mr. K., "that 
there never were so many as there are at present." 
"Happen so," replied Samuel, as though he had reach- 
ed the end of both his- patience and his thoughts -:• "it 
may be that you are better acquainted with them than 
me, Sir." This was (quantum sujficit, and Mr. K. left 
him to hum over his tune to the remainder of the hymn. 
Pungent, however, as the last remark may have seem- 
ed, it would have been found, if Samuel had been inter- 
rogated upon it, that there was as much of concession 
intended for superior knowledge, as there was of any 
indirect reflection upon moral character ; and ten min- 
utes would scarcely have elapsed, till — from other sub- 
jects occupying his thoughts— -he would have been as 
kisensible to what had passed, as though he had never ex- 
changed a syllable with the gentleman that spoke to him. 
Singing was one of his favourite employments, both 
ia company and alone. Engaged thus, as he was 



136 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

riding along the road once, in company with Mr. Daw- 
son, and another friend or two, he seemed lost occa- 
sionally to the society of his fellow-travellers. He had 
got hold of a tune which was in use among the Ranters, 
so called. This he continued to hum over, in the same 
way as when he walked the deck, exclaiming at short 
intervals, "Bless the Lord for a fine shower!" The 
rain continued more copious in its descent ;— his com- 
panions buttoned up, and turned their sides to the wea- 
ther, sinking the lower part of the face into the collars 
of their coats ; — Samuel sung on, sensible only of his 
mercies, again exclaiming, " Bless the Lord for a fine 
shower !" One of his companions, as much annoyed 
with the tune as by the rain, objected to it as an indif- 
ferent one* " Sing a better, then," said Samuel, turn- 
ing his head as suddenly from him as he had directed it 
towards him, still singing and keeping time to the amble 
of the horse, facing the weather, and praising the Lord 
for watering the earth. The friend again complained 
of the tune, and again solicited another^ " Sing your- 
self," said Samuel. I have no voice for the work," 
was the reply. "Don't complain," rejoined Samuel, 
"of what you cannot mend," again directing his face' 
to the shower, and his mind to the Giver of it, absent 
every now and then to all companionship, and as hap- 
py, though saturated with the teeming contents of the 
clouds, as if he had been sheltered under his own roof. 

Though he possessed the power of occasionally ac- 
commodating himself to existing circumstances, and 
particular companies, isolated instances occurred, when 
he was perfectly lost to the respect due to the habits 
and feelings of others. He was led by inclination to a 
public meeting of the Society of Friends, and took his 
seat in the midst of them. This was an ordinance, and 
an assembly, for which he was the least fitted, either by 
natUFe or by habit ; and although he had often sung, 

14 A solemn reverence checks out songs, 
And praise sits silent on our tongues," 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 137 

he never till now knew what it was to live under the 
restraint of praise. " The songs of Zion" were in his 
heart, in which he was singing, and making melody to 
the Lord, as many of the worshippers around him might 
have been employed : but having read of Paul and 
Silas, under less agreeable circumstances, adding to the 
music of the heart, the variations of the voice and the 
motion of the lips — rising in their strains till. " the pris- 
oners heard them>" and embracing the notion that 
praise only receives its perfection in utterance, he 
either so far forgot himself, or was otherwise glowing 
with such an intensity of feeling while musing, that the 
long silence in the commencement became insupport- 
able. He took his- hymn-book from his pocket, and 
starting on* his- feet— his- huge figure receiving elevation 
from the seated and lowering position of those around 
him, saio% " Gome, let us sing a verse or two." Nei- 
ther the voice nor the language belonged to the place ; 
a number of eyes were instantly fixed upon him; and 
strange feelings were stirring, till a- venerable man 
arose, who knew him, and accosted him, saying, "Sam- 
uel, sit thee down, and wait." The mandate was obey- 
ed, without reply or murmur ;- and all was suddenly as 
still as before. After waiting some time in silence, 
during, almost every minute of which Samuel expected 
some one to rise and address the assembly, but no 
attempt being made, he again bounded from his seat, 
under an impression that prayer might be more accept- 
able than praise, and said, "Let us kneel down ? 
friends, and pray a bit." Just as he was in the attitude 
of kneeling, the same venerable man stood up r and with 
great solemnity again addressed him, " Samuel, sit thee 
down — and wait till the Spirit moves thee." Less 
docile than before, Samuel returned, " We Methodists 
think it very well, if we can have the Spirit for ask- 
ing ;" referring with great readiness to that passage of 
Scripture,. "If ye then, being evil, know how to give 
good gifts unto your children, how much more shall 

n2 



13S THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH, 

your Heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to them that 
ask him ?" Though Samuel was correct in doctrine, he 
was here erroneous in conduct, and had forgotten his 
own dislike of interruptions in divine service, when 
worshipping God agreeably to the dictates of his con, 
science, under his own " vine, and under his fig-tree." 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 139 



CHAPTER IX. 

His self-denial — sympathy for the poor — gratitude for mercies — early rising 
singular band-meeting.*., .the best way of beginning the day — his conduct 
in the families he visited .. .Bolton — Ratcliffe Close — often abrupt in his 
manners — his views of proprietorship — a genuine Wesleyan — an at- 
tempt to purchase him — his character as the head of a family — gives up 
business — preaching excursions — visits Rigton — providential supply. . . 
his public addresses — delight in his work — E. Brook, Esq — Denby dale 
... .prosperity of the work of God — a new chape! — Samuel visits Roch- 
dale rises superior to his exercises — takes a tour into different parts of 

Lancashire — great commercial distress — liberality of P. E. Towneley, 
Esq — meeting for the relief of the poor — Samuel's return home — visits 
different parts of the York circuit — revival of religion — persecution. 

As Samuel had obtained the grace which enabled him 
to "rejoice evermore," he seemed to create a paradise 
in every circle in which he moved. Whenever he was 
oppressed — which was rarely the case — it was either 
on account of the wants and miseries of others, or occa- 
sioned by an overwhelming sense of his own mercies. 
Thus, on being urged to take more food at table, he has 
been heard to say, in seasons of commercial and agri- 
cultural distress, " O no : I cannot take more, whilst I 
think of so many around me nearly starving for want of 
bread." 

So, also, on being entertained out of the ordinary 
line, in the house of a friend, his gratitude, like the 
thermometer, rose to the highest point. He was at 
Pontefract during the bustle of an election, and was 
lodged in the house of Mr. M., a member of the Society 
of Friends, whose family was strongly attached to Sam- 
uel. He was honoured with the best fare, the best 



140 THE VILLAGE &LAC&S2MTK". 

room, and the best bed, the last of which was unusually 
high. On being asked the next day, how he liked his 
lodgings, he said, " Why, ham, I have been crying half 
the night ; I never was in such a bed before ; I had to 
take a chair to get into it. O how I wept; for I 
thought ray Lord never had such a bed as that." This 
was properly "the joy of grief." Samuel dwelt muck 
upon his Saviour; the "servant" and the "Lord" af- 
forded him some amazing contrasts, and drew forth the 
finest feelings of his souk 

But he had his " songs in the night,' 5 ' and his morning- 
carols, as well as his tears. " He was in the habit," 
Mr. Dawson observes, " of rising very early in the 
morning (about four o'clock), and of partially dressing 
himself, when he bowed his knees before his divine 
Father, praying first for the church in general, next for 
particular characters, and lastly for special cases. He 
then sung a verse of a hymn — retired to bed again — 
and after a short time arose, and begun the day with 
praise and prayer." The occasion of this systematic 
proceeding is known to few. Samuel had a band-mate, 
with whom he met for some time, and to whom he was 
much endeared. Four o'clock in the morning was ths 
hour of meeting; and this was selected, not only be^ 
cause of its tranquillity, but because it prevented self, 
indulgence. His companion died, and he mourned his 
loss like the stock-dove, whose mate had just sat by his 
side on the same bough, and had dropped off through 
the hand of the fowler. The hour and the ordinance 
were held sacred by the survivor. He rose at the 
appointed time — sung — prayed — unfolded the secrets of 
his heart to God, as he was wont to do with his Christ- 
ian friend ; thus going regularly through the service, as 
though the dead were still alive, and by his side, hold- 
ing converse with him. This is one of those mementos 
ef Christian friendship, which rarely occurs in the same 
form; but while its singularity excites the surprise of 
tome, its piety will secure the admiration of others, ami 



?HE VILLAGE HLACKSMIT1I. Ill 

amply atone for any peculiarity in its manner. Those 
only, perhaps, will indulge the laugh, who, neverthe- 
less, have their anniversaries, 6pc, but support them in 
another way, by toasting each other over the maddening 
bowl, and cheering each other with the speech and the 
song, tin they become objects of pity, rather than sub- 
jects for imitation. 

The summary account of his matins, as given by Mr. 
Dawson, is exemplified by a particular case, as record- 
ed by the family of P. Rothwell, Esq., of Sunning Hill, 
Bolton, in whose house Samuel at one time resided for 
the space of nearly three weeks. " He frequently 
rose," it is remarked, "in the night to pray. On one 
of those occasions he was heard singing a hymn, after 
which he pleaded with God, that he might enjoy a 
closer walk with Jesus, and his prayer was soon turned 
into praise. He repeated several times, ' O that I 
could praise thee ! O that I could praise thee as I 
would !— but I shall praise thee again, when I pass over 
Jordan! Glory! glory! glory!' He then prayed for 
his family, the family he was visiting, the church of 
God, and for the world at large. He appeared to feel 
much while pleading for sinners, and then was borne 
away in transport for redeeming mercy. Some time 
after he rose from his knees, his language was, 'Glory! 
glory !' " He has been known on some of these occa- 
sions, to indulge in a sublimity of thought of which at 
other times he was incapable, and which— taken in 
connexion with the whole man—would have fixed upon 
him, by some gifted beings, had they overheard him, 
much more appropriately than ever was applied to 
Goldsmith, the epithet of " an inspired idiot," and he 
would have stood a fair chance of being deified among 
the Mahomedans. 

Such a beginning was an excellent preparation for 
the duties, the exercises, and the mercies of the day ; 
and it will be generally found, that its close will corres- 
pond with its commencement. The man who permits 



142 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITHS 

God to hear his voice In the morning, will not himself Be 
silent, nor yet mourn an absent God in the evening. 
These " morning communings" secured attention to 
" stated times" for retirement through the day, when 
he entered into his closet before his Father, who sees 
in secret, and rewards openly ; and this is the secret of 
that charm which was thrown round his spirit and 
demeanour in social life. He came forth in the morn- 
ing, like the sun from his chambers in the east — 
refreshed and refreshing. Happy in himself, he chased 
away melancholy from the soul, and lit up a sunshine 
in the countenances of those with whom he conversed. 
"No family," said a friend, in whose house he had* 
been resident some weeks, — " No family could be mis- 
erable with whom he lived, because he laboured to 
make every person around him happy." Mrs. Bealey, 
of Ratclifle Close, near Bury, in Lancashire, a lady 
well qualified to appreciate real worth, whether reli- 
gious, moral, or intellectual, and under whose hospitable- 
roof Samuel was entertained nearly two months, observ- 
ed to Mr. Dawson, "That he interested himself in the 
welfare of the whole family, as though he had' beerr 
united to them by the tender ties of nature. He par- 
ticipated in all their pleasures, as well as increased 
them, and was rendered truly useful to the men and 
children employed in the works. He sympathized also> 
with persons with whom he was acquainted', in their 
losses in cattle or trade, as though he had been the* 
loser himself." It was the love and joy within, which, 
as is remarked elsewhere by Mr. Dawson, "gave a 
beam to his eye, a smile to his countenance, a tone to 
his voice, and an energy to his language, which melted 
and attracted every heart that came within the sphere 
of his influence." 

This attractive influence was not always sudden, but 
it was rarely otherwise than certain. Oh his first visit 
to the residence of a gentleman in Lancashire, to whom 
rill then he was personally unknown, he was directed 



THE TILLAGE BLACKSMITH, 143 

*o the house accidentally. He rode up to the door of 
that gentleman, and after having seen his horse put 
under the care of his servant, he entered the house, 
whe're he was introduced into the parlour. Without 
either letter or person to introduce him, and with no 
other passport than the connexion of the family with 
the Wesleyan body, he took his seat in the domestic 
•circle, where he sat, unconscious as innocence or in- 
fancy, of any other prerequisite for social enjoyment, 
than the religion of his Saviour. The habits of the 
gentleman, and the society in which he moved, ren- 
dered him at first uncomfortable ; and he was equally 
at a loss to know, what to do with, and what to make of, 
his new and -unexpected guest. A short interlude as- 
sisted in relieving the first feeling. The sitting-room 
door was opened, and a person stepped in, with whom 
the master of the house had to transact a little business. 
Samuel's presence added to the poignancy of his more 
delicate feelings. However, he was there, and the per- 
son was at liberty to suppose, if he judged proper, that 
Samuel was on business as well as himself. He sat in 
silence, and appeared to take no notice of either party. 
When the transaction was closed, and the person rose 
to retire, Samuel started on his feet, as though he had 
been awakened from a trance ; " Stop, Sir, let us 
pray a bit before you go : you seem full of the world, 
and we'll try to get it out of your heart." This rendered 
the occasion of his visit desperate ; and nothing but vi- 
olence could be done to the feelings of his host, to 
render such conduct supportable. But there was no 
time for excuse or remonstrance ; Samuel's voice was 
the warning. clock, — no sooner heard, than on his knees. 
The effect of this may be as readily conceived as ex- 
pressed. Yet, notwithstanding the coy beginning on 
the part of the gentleman, he was soon led to place the 
highest value on Samuel's piety and presence, and con- 
tinued to entertain both man and horse for some time ; 
and so much regard did his homely visitor gain from 



144 THE VILLAGE ELACKSMITH. 

himself and his family, that they parted with sincere 
regret. 

Even in families where religion was not professed, 
his simplicity of manner, and general good character, 
gained him unhesitating access. When the Rev. A. 
Learoyd was on the Knaresborough Circuit, he went 
to preach at a neighbouring village, and, on entering 
the house of a friend, he found Samuel seated, who had 
just arrived. " Where have you put your horse, Sa- 
muel ?" enquired Mr. L. " I have left it at the other 
end of the village," was the reply ; adding, " will you 
go with me to the house?" Mr. L., being aware that 
the family had no connexion with the Wesleyan body, 
asked, " Why did you go there ?" " i saw plenty of 
hay, and good stables," returned Samuel, " and I 
thought it would be a good home for Jackey." The 
singularity of the visit led Mr. L. to accede to his 
wishes ; and, on being seated in the family circle, Sa- 
muel proceeded to interrogate his host on the state of 
his soul. Considerable fluency characterized the re- 
plies : but Samuel, being suspicious that very little re. 
ligion was enjoyed, proceeded to speak more plainly, 
exhorting him to apply to Christ for converting grace. 
The word of exhortation was well received, and he was 
pressed to remain the night with them ; the invitation 
was accepted, and he acted the part of a priest in the 
family. " Let me/' said he to the servant-maid, " have 
a dry bed ;" and to the servant-man, " You must give 
Jackey plenty to eat : — take good care of him, for he is 
the Lord's horse ; the hay and the corn are the Lord's 
also." Abrupt as was his introduction here, and little 
as such freedoms are to be recommended, either in 
Samuel himself or as examples for others, yet the family 
were much pleased with his visit. Such leadings and 
movements, in irrational creatures, would be attributed 
to instinct ; but Samuel was girded and carried often- 
like Peter when he was old, by " another" than him, 
self; and he was more indebted to the Spirit and Provi- 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH; 145 

tience of God for his introduction and reception, than 
either to his sagacity or the formalities of modern man. 
ners. 

His representation of "the hay and the corn," as 
belonging to the Supreme Being, arose from a settled 
principle in his creed, and included a certain exclusive- 
ness, not generally recognized by the professors of 
Christianity. His own crops were viewed in the same 
light ; and his mind was so imbued with this notion, that 
all delegated or personal right, in reference to man, 
seemed frequently annihilated. He was going to 
preaching one Sabbath morning, when he was met by a 
person who knew his regard for the sanctity of that day. 
There had been a great deal of rain, which proved 
fatal to the " line" or flax crops. The following is the 
purport of what passed between them on the road : — 

Neighbour* " Where are you going, Sammy?" 

Samuel, " To preaching." 

Neighb. " More need ycu got your line in, now that 
God is giving you fine weather." 

Sam. " He does not give fine weather for us to 
break the Sabbath." 

Neighb. " Why, you see others making hay while 
the sun shines: they will get their line in to-day, and 
yours, if you let it lie till to-morrow, and it should be 
wet, will be spoiled." 

Sa?n. " I have none to spoil, barn." 

Neighb. "Is not yon, lying down (pointing to it) 
yours ?" 

Sam. "No." 

Neighb. " What, is not yon your close ?" * 

Sam. "No, it is the Lord's: he has a right to do 
with it what he likes ; and if he have a mind to spoil it, 
he may : it is his own, and no one has any business to 
quarrel with him for it. It is the Lord's day too, and I 
will give it to him." 

* " Close," a field, 

o 



146 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

A brief dialogue, also involving the same principle, 
took place in the neighbourhood of Ferry Bridge, when 
Samuel was journeying from thence homeward. A 
gentleman was passing with a little boy, and having his 
attention drawn to some sheep that were grazing in a 
field adjoining the road, he accosted Samuel : 

Gentleman. " Do you know, my good man, to whom 
those sheep belong?" 

Samuel. " My Lord, Sir." 

Gent. " They are very fine ones ; I do not recollect 
ever having seen their equal." 

Sam. "They are a fine breed, Sir." 

Gent. " I thought they might probably belong to 
Mr. Alderson, of Ferry Bridge." 

Sam. " No, Sir, they belong to my Lord ; don't you 
know, that the earth is the Lord's, and the fulness 
thereof; and that the cattle upon a thousand hills are 
his?" 

Gent. " You are right — you are right, old man." 

Samuel's reply would have been a mere play upon 
words in the mouth of many other persons ; but he was 
sincere ; and the gentleman's attention was suddenly 
and unexpectedly elevated from earth to heaven, with- 
out his being offended by the manner in which it was 
done. 

With regard to " Jackey," who occupied such a pro- 
minent place in Samuel's esteem, and who is only 
noticed as bearing upon his master's history, it may 
be remarked, that on one occasion, Samuel displayed a 
feeling respecting the treatment of the animal, which 
was not at all common to him. One of the young men 
belonging to a family at whose house he stopped, with- 
held the meat from "Jackey," and otherwise failed in 
his attention as groom. It came to Samuel's know- 
ledge, and for a considerable length of time he utterly 
refused to go near the place again. In process of time 
he went back, but he would never take his favourite 
with him ; thus shewing, that while he entertained no 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 147 

resentment — by his own return, the only feeling re- 
maining was that of distrust in reference to his horse. 

Wherever Wesleyan Methodism was respected, Sam- 
tiel was sure to b« loved. He was a genuine believer 
in its doctrines, a living witness of its experimental 
truths, an example of ^ts^ure^t morals, a firm supporter 
of its discipline, and a ; W-arm friend of its ministers. Of 
the latter, he ever spoke with respect and affection ; 
and if his holy indignation was at any time kindled, it 
was when persons endeavoured to lower their charac- 
ter, by cold oblique hints, in the eyes of the world, and 
when an apparent delight was taken in sowing discord 
among brethren. Satisfied with his privileges, he 
avoided such as were given to change. He was accus- 
tomed to say, " I am determined to remain in the old 
ship. She has carried thousands across the ocean, and 
landed them safe in glory ; and if I stay in her, she will 
carry me there too."* Speaking once of a person who 
had acted in the capacity of a local preacher, but had 
afterwards united himself to another society, he re- 
sorted to his favourite figure of "the old ship" and 
enquired why he had left her, after she had borne him 

* Samuel was not without his inducements to leave the body. 
Mr. Sigston, who has taken such a prominent part in the late 
division at Leeds, became offended in 1803, and formed a small 
society, whose members received the appellation of Sigstonites. 
They held their meetings in a room which was taken for the pur- 
pose in Kirkgate. The head of this small party was known by a 
few of the friends belonging to the Pontefract circuit, among 
whom two exhorters, and two accredited local preachers, espoused 
his cause, the latter of whom were never very remarkable for sub- 
mitting to rule. These took with them about thirty members of 
the society, and occupied a School-room in Knottingly, erected 
about ten yards from the Methodist Chapel, by a person, who, 
tlrough not in society, took unspeakable pleasure in promoting 
the division. Samuel was earnestly importuned to unite himself 
to the Knottingly dissentients, and was told, as an inducement, 
that he should have a certain sum presented to him as a compen- 
sation for fats labours, wherever he preached. It argued an igno- 
rance of Samuel's character, to think that he was to be bought 
by gold. 



148 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

so long in safety ? The simile was taken up by the 
other, who intimated that she was in danger of founder- 
ing. Samuel returned, " You should not have been 
such a coward as to leave her, but should have remain- 
ed on board, either to help to mend her, or, prevent her 
from going to the bottom. But you have forsaken an 
old friend ; I know she is sound at heart, and as safe as 
ever." " My wife and I," said he to another person, 
are sailing together in her. Some of our children are 
with us; we are getting stronger;" and then, with a 
fine glow of feeling, would exclaim, u We shall all sail 
to heaven together, — I know we shall." This figura- 
tive mode of expression was rendered very popular in a 
sermon preached by the late Rev, Joseph Benson, on 
Schism, about the time of Mr. Kilham's defection from 
the body ; and it was one of those figures which Samuel 
could work without much danger of being wrecked in 
its management. 

The religion which he carried into the families of 
others, and recommended in his public walks, was not 
without its influence at home. Though Martha and he 
could not always see eye to eye, in money affairs — and 
it was fortunate for him that they could not — yet he was 
an affectionate husband, as well as a tender father. He 
moved before his family more, perhaps, in the character 
of a priest, to pray for them, than a prophet and a king, 
to instruct and govern. He was fitted for the one rather 
than the other; and such was his attention to the fam- 
ily; altar, such his prevalent intercession before it, 
that his incapacity for the two latter appeared to be 
greatly counterbalanced by the hallowed character of 
the former. He bore his partner and his children con- 
stantly before God, in the arms of faith and prayer, and 
lived in full confidence that the whole would be saved. 
If any of his opinions, more than others, bordered upon 
extravagance, it was upon the certain salvation of the 
children of praying parents. The possibility of perdi- 
tion, in the case of any of them, was beyond endurance* 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 149 

Though he took excursions to different places, from 
the period of his becoming a local preacher, yet it was 
not till the latter part of 1825, or the beginning of 1826, 
when he gave up business, that he took a more exten- 
sive range, and considered himself as doing the work, 
and therefore entitled to the name and honours of a 
Home Missionary. He was then possessed of what he 
deemed sufficient for the support of himself and his 
aged partner, during the evening of life. Being now at 
liberty from the trammels of business, he was invited 
into several circuits in Yorkshire and Lancashire, all of 
which he visited, preaching in the different towns and 
villages, and in many of which he was not only useful 
in the conversion of sinners, but in raising pecuniary 
supplies for the supportof foreign missions, the erection 
and relief of places of worship. 

While gratifying the benevolent feelings of his heart, 
in obeying the calls of the people, he not unfrequently 
suffered various inconveniences, notwithstanding the 
kindness of friends. An instance which occurred a 
short time prior to this part of his history, but which it 
would not be well to omit, betokening great absence of 
mind on the part of the persons on the spot, presents 
him under very unpleasant circumstances. He attend- 
ed a missionary meeting at Rigton in the Forest, a 
place belonging to the Otley circuit, about three or four 
miles from Harrowgate. " We had a blessed meet- 
ing," said Samuel : " I was very happy, and gave all the 
money I had in my pocket." After the meeting was con- 
concluded, he mounted his horse to return home. And 
in what aspect is he to be viewed? Without any one 
offering to pay his expenses, — not the value of a far- 
thing in his pocket,— advanced in life, — a slow rider, 
and not a very sprightly horse, — near the end of Octo- 
ber, when the season was breaking up, — in the night, — 
alone, — and about twenty miles from his own house. 
He became the subject of temptation. It was suggest- 
ed — "No money to procure a feed of corn for thy 

o2 



150 the villagi? blacksmith:. 

horse, or refreshment for thyself, — and friends, who 
might receive thee, are gone to bed '!" The struggle 
was short ; and the victory was obtained in his own 
way. Satan found no place in him for either repining 
or distrust. " I shaped him his answer," observed 
Samuel, " and said, ' Devil, I never stack fast yet.' " 
With his confidence invigorated by a recollection of 
past mercy, his happiness returned, and he remained 
the only nightingale of Christianity on the road, till he 
reached the village of Harewood, when a gentleman 
who knew him took his tiorse by the bridle, and asked 
him where he had been. He gave him, in reply, an 
account of the meeting; from which the gentleman 
glided into the subject of his temporal concerns, in 
order to ascertain apparently how far a report was cor- 
rect, which he had heard respecting some property out 
of which Samuel had been wronged. Samuel told him 
that he had " had two thousand pounds left" to him, but 
had "been deprived of it."* "I am very sorry for 
you," was the rejoinder. Samuel replied, '- Though I 
have been deprived of this, it has never deprived me of 
an hour's sleep. I never had a worse lot for it. I 
have not wanted for any good thing, and could always 
say with Job, 'The Lord gave, and the Lord taketh 
away : blessed be the name of the Lord.' Though he 
took Job's, he has not taken the whole of my property : 
I still have all my children." The gentleman asked, 

* The report heard by the one, and the language employed by 
the other, would scarcely comport with the subject, if applied to 
a particular event which took place. Martha's brother, who had 
a considerable sum of money, on interest, in Royds' Iron Works, 
near Leeds, expressed a wish to live and die with Samuel ; pro- 
posing to allow the interest for his maintenance during life, and 
the principal at his death. The proposal was accepted — her 
brother resided with them — the Company at the Iron Works failed 
— the whole of the property was swept away — Samuel's hopes 
were blighted, yet he generously kept him in his own house till 
the day of his death, and thus prevented what must otherwise 
inevitably have ensued — his going to the workhouse. 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 151 

" Can you read ?" " Yes," returned Samuel, " if I had 
my spectacles out of my pocket." " There/' replied 
the gentleman, holding a piece of paper in his hand, 
which was rendered visible by the glimmering light of 
the stars, — " There is a five pound note for you. You 
love God and his cause ; and I believe you will never 
want." Samuel's eyes were instantly filled with tears, 
and his heart with gratitude. " Here," said he, " I saw 
the salvation of God. I cried for joy all the way as I 
went down the lonesome lanes; and when I got to a 
public house, I asked the landlord if he could change 
me a five pound bill ; for I told him I could not have 
any thing for myself or my horse, unless he could 
change it. He said he could, if it were a good one. 
So I got off my horse, and ordered him a good feed of 
corn, and had some refreshment for myself. This was 
a fair salvation from the Lord. When I got home, I 
told my wife ; she brast (burst) into tears ; and we 
praised the Lord together." This was viewed by Sam- 
uel somewhat in the light of a triumph over Martha, 
who had chided him in the morning for taking so much 
money from home with him, to a missionary meeting, to 
which he gave his time, his labours and expenses. He 
therefore added, by way of making his path more open 
to the purse in future, " You see, we never give to the 
Lord, but he gives in return." 

His addresses in the pulpit rarely extended beyond 
half an hour. This afforded time to engage in the 
work which was his favourite employment — a prayer 
meeting; and these meetings furnished him very often 
with a knowledge of the progress of the word of life, as 
the benefits received under preaching were more fully 
developed in them, as well as cherished by the interces- 
sory prayers of the faithful. Having the unction of the 
Holy One — an anointing .which he received from him 
that abode in him — he was enabled to proceed in the 
work with cheerfulness, and very often carried with him 
a commanding authority over the feelings and conduct 



152 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

of others. He was frequently under high excitation ; 
so much so indeed, as sometimes to overpower his phys- 
ical energies. " O," said he, to his friend Mr. D. once, 
after a missionary meeting at Howden, in which he had 
pleaded the cause of the heathen on the platform, till he 
was nearly exhausted—-" O," said he, " I am so happy. 
I shall surely die some of these times !" On another 
occasion, when at Pontefract, he remarked to a friend, 
after the meeting, with extatic feeling, and in his own 
peculiarly expressive language, " I felt as though I 
should have svielted (melted) away to heaven." This 
is no common thought — not even to be exceeded by 
Pope's " Dying Christian, 5 ' whom he represents as 
languishing into life. It is only in cases like this, that 
we feel the force of Coleridge's remarks in the motto 
selected for the Memoir ; and feel too a disposition to 
subscribe to the sentiments of a critic, in a number of 
Blackwood's Magazine, where he observes, " That the 
knowledge that shone but by fits and dimly upon the 
eyes of Socrates and Plato, whose eyes rolled in vain to 
find the light, has descended into various lands as well 
as our own — even into the huts where poor men lie ; 
and thoughts are familiar there, beneath the low and 
smoky roof, higher and more sublime than ever flowed 
from the lips of a Grecian sage, meditating among the 
magnificence of his pillared temples." Though the 
expression, "pleading the cause of the heathen," may 
be a little too argumentative in its character, when 
applied to the speeches and addresses of the " Village 
Blacksmith," and may excite the laugh in those who 
employ the head, to the exclusion of the heart, in such 
work; yet Samuel's honest and pathetic appeals very 
often touched the feelings and raised the " cash ac- 
counts" — raised perhaps with a smile — when the dull 
spirits, sapless speeches, and ^tedious readings of those 
who could see a greater curse in a little incoherence 
and hilarity than in lukewarmness, produced only list- 
lessness and a yawn. . 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH* 



153 



A still more, expressive sentiment was employed by 
him, when preaching once in his own neighbourhood, 
on " The Spirit and the bride say, Come. And let him 
that heareth say, Come. And let him that is athirst 
Come. And whosoever will, let him take the water 
of life freely." He expatiated on the value and the 
uses of water, as far as common observation allowed 
him to proceed, — passing from that element to the 
" water of life," which formed the prominent feature of 
his text,- — urging the freedom with which it was offered, 
— and finally impressing his hearers with the import- 
ance of the subject. He told them, in speaking of its 
value, that he himself was unacquainted with it, — that 
he doubted whether any of his hearers knew how to 
appreciate it, — that he doubted whether there was a 
person upon the face of the earth who knew its worth, 
— nay further, that he did not believe an angel in hea- 
ven could enter into its merit, — that, in short, he never 
heard of but one who knew its real value-, and " that 
was the rich man in hell, who would have given a world 
for a drop of it." The climacterical manner in which 
he thus worked his way up to the point which he wished 
to gain, — like St. Paul's light afflictions and eternal 
weight of glory — the amazing contrast between a world 
and a drop, — that drop solicited by a tongue of fire — 
and the eternal destinies of his hearers suspended on 
their acceptance of offered grace, to prevent the un- 
timely knowledge of its worth by its loss in perdition, 
wou^d have done honour to the first orators, in the best 
days of classic Greece and Rome. 

During some of his moments of inspiration, he would 
manifest considerable impatience, when he was likely 
to be deprived of an opportunity of giving vent to the 
overflowings of his mind. A speaker at a Missionary 
Meeting, who prosed a good deal, inflicted a heavy 
punishment upon him in this way. Long before he had 
concluded, Samuel appeared extremely uneasy. " Sit 
still, Sammy," said the chairman in an under tone, 



154 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

being near him, and on terms of intimacy. " He is too 
long by the half," returned Samuel. After sitting 
awhile, with his hands clenched, and fixed between his 
knees, as in a vice, he again manifested symptoms of 
restlessness ; when again the chairman endeavoured 
quietly to impose silence, and inspire a little long- 
suffering. Various rounds were exchanged between 
them, one requesting the other to "be still," and the 
other requesting that the speaker, who was unconscious 
of what was passing in the rear, might be told to "give 
over." The good brother continued prosing, without 
the least sign of coming, in any moderate length of 
time, to a close. Samuel, at length, started up — who, 
by the way, spoke only the feelings of others, who 
possessed more self-command and prudence, though 
less courage, and said, — turning to the chairman, " Sir, 
that brother does not love his neighbour as himself; he 
does not take the scriptural rule of doing to others as he 
would that others should do to him 5 for he will let no 
body speak but himself." Here the business dropped 
between the parties ; the speaker being left to take the 
credit of having pleased all except Samuel, and Samuel 
brushing up his better feelings to engage the attention 
of the people during the few moments allotted to him, 
as the seconder of the resolution. Being coupled on 
another occasion with a popular speaker, Samuel turned 
to him, and said, "They have paired us like rabbits." 

The Rev. J. Roadhouse having heard either that he 
had actually declined business, or was on the eve of it, 
invited him, in the beginning of Oct., 1825, to pay the 
friends a visit at Cross Hills, a place in the Addingham 
circuit. A few weeks passed over, and not having 
heard from Samuel, the invitation began to wear away 
from recollection. About the middle of November, 
Samuel one day unexpectedly made his appearance, 
mounted on "Jackey." The latter was cheerfully 
provided for by a friend, and Samuel took up his abode 
with Mr. Roadhouse. He generally accompanied Mr. 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 155 

R. to the different places of preaching — commenced the 
service with singing and prayer — spoke from ten to 
twenty minutes — and then gave place to Mr. R. to 
conclude the service. On one of these occasions, he 
broke off his address rather abruptly, and suddenly 
stepping back in the pulpit, said, "Brother R. will now 
preach to you, for two sermons are better than one." 
A good feeling having been excited, Mr. R. commenced 
his address, by an allusion to the words of the Jewish 
monarch, " What shall the man do, who cometh after 
the King?" Samuel, before any application could be 
made, exclaimed, "Do! you will do well enough, only 
go on." The service terminated much better than this 
unexpected interlude at first promised. Two persons 
were deeply affected with his public address ; and at 
another place five persons were brought to a state of 
penitence. 

The great commercial depression which distinguished 
the close of this year, was just beginning to be expe- 
rienced. Many of the poor people in Addingham and 
its neighbourhood, sold part of their furniture, and 
whatever they could spare of other things, in order to 
procure food. Samuel visited them ; and after having 
given all the money away which he had deemed 
sufficient for his journey, a poor boy entered the 
door-way of a house where he was sitting. The 
weather was cold, and the boy was without neckker- 
chief. Samuel pitied him — asked for a pair of scissors 
— took his handkerchief from his own pocket — cut it 
into halyes — and tied one of them round the neck of the 
poor little fellow — rejoicing in the opportunity afforded 
of clothing the naked. 

He remained here nearly three weeks; and just as 
he was leaving Mr. Roadhouse, to proceed to his friends 
at Grassington, he thanked him for his kindness towards 
him, and then with tears, said, " You must let me have 
some money to pay the toll bars, and get Jackey a feed 
of corn." Till now, Mr. R. was not aware that he was 



156 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH, 

pennyless ; and yet, in the midst of it, he seemed more 
mindful of his horse than of himself. After having 
spent a short time at Grassington, he visited Skipton, 
where he remained three weeks, and was rendered 
very useful in different parts of the circuk. Miss Lister 
of Colne, (now Mrs. Hovvarth of Clithero,) having 
heard much of his zeal, and power with God in prayer, 
sent an invitation to him, to spend a few days at her 
house. Here also he tarried nearly three weeks, taking 
occasional rambles into the Burnley circuit. Some of 
the persons who were brought to God through his 
labours during this visit, have reached the goal, and 
others are pressing towards the mark> in order to obtain 
the prize. From Colne he proceeded home, where he 
remained but a short time, yielding to other invitations. 
We find him in the neighbourhood of Huddersfield 
and Denby-Dale, in the latter part of January, 1826, 
with E. Brook, Esq., as his companion in labour. His 
attention to others led him to neglect himself; and the 
latter, finding him without a proper winter covering, 
purchased an excellent top-coat to preserve him from 
the cold. But though he was thus equipped, and could 
speak of "plenly of coals" and " good fires," the " cold 
storms' 9 which howled around him, and the heavy 
" snows" which fell, kindled the sensibilities of his nature 
towards Martha, whom he had left at home, and whom 
he addressed in his letters, as his " Dear bosom friend." 
In a letter dated January 24th, from Denby-Dale, he 
exhorted his daughter to do all in her " power" to 
" make" her " dear mother comfortable" — to " keep 
her well happed up by day and by night" to " give her 
a little wine to nourish her" — assuring her that she 
should " be recompensed" — requsting her to write imme- 
diately, should any thing untoward take place — and 
telling her, that he bore them all up, " both in public 
and private, at a throne of grace." He solicited a " long 
letter" in return, informing him how they were " going 
on in the best things ;" whether or not " Mrs. Porter'* 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 157 

was dead ; and then, with the fondness of a grandfather 
— the cherub forms twining round his heart, and romping 
about in his imagination — he adds, " Let me know how 
my dear grandchild does," and say whether she can yet 
" run," holding out " her bonny little hand." This is a 
stroke of pure nature. The autumn of life turns away 
from the gloom of its winter, and seems to be perpetually 
reverting to the freshness, and bloom, and loveliness of 
its spring, as though anxious to live it over again in tHe 
innocent child, or by feeling after it, and catching hold 
of some of its joys, it experienced a kind of resuscitation^ 
and went forth with renewed vigour. 

While in this quarter he spoke of having " plenty of 
work, and good wages" — the wages of " peace, joy, and 
love," — of sinners being " saved," — of " backsliders" 
being healed, — of God placing " the ring" on the finger^ 
and " the shoes on the feet" of the returning " prodigal." 
His mind, he observed, was " kept in perfect peace ; 
and such was the joy he experienced, #uch his ' f prospect 
of glory," when he arose one morning, that he concluded, 
that the Lord was either about to e< fit" him " for some 
trial," or to grant him instant preparation for his "glori- 
ous inheritance." He had been engaged in the course 
of the week in which he wrote, in begging for a chapel, 
"thfj ground" of which, he observed, was given to him 
by " Mr. D., of Highflats," a member of the Society 
of Friends ; and the week after he purposed going to 
" Penistone," to assist in begging for another chapel in 
that place. 

In his perambulations among the sick and the poor, 
he entered the house of a woman with seven children, 
who had only had one pound of animal food for the 
family, for the space of about four weeks. Her tale of 
distress required no embellishment, to find access to the 
ear and heart of Samuel. As soon as he heard it, he 
gave her some money to procure " a meat dinner" for 
herself and children the following day. 

After " finishing his work," as he termed it, in that 
P 



158 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH, 

neighbourhood, he return'ed home, where he again re- 
mained but a short time. He set off for Rochdale in 
February or March, taking Bradford on his way, at 
which place he was pressed to remain from Tuesday to 
Thursday, preaching at Great-Horton and Low Moor, 
and holding prayer-meetings. On reaching Rochdale, 
where he had some family affairs to settle, he found 
ample ground for the exercise of his patience, through 
tie nefarious conduct of a female and some others, who 
had appropriated to themselves the wearing apparel and 
other property which was left to his wife by her sister, 
Mrs. L., denying at the same time such appropriation. 
His want of confidence in the gentlemen of the law 
made him decline all legal measures ; and his faith in 
God led him to believe that things would work round to 
a proper point, in the order of Divine Providence ; and, 
though tried at first, he soon lost all sense of wrong, in 
the means of grace in which he was constantly engaged, 
the prospect of %visit to Manchester, and the services 
connected with the opening of a new chapel at Itych- 
dale, stating the amount of the collections and subscrip- 
tions " to be nearly two thousand pounds," and exhort- 
ing Martha to make progress in piety, and to solace her- 
self with the thought, that, though she was deprived of 
her right in her sister's wardrobe here, she should here- 
after receive " a white garment," one that would 
" never grow threadbare." With what kind of grace 
Martha received the exhortation and encouragement is 
not for the writer to state ; but she must have viewed it 
as a poor apology for indifference in his own cause, as 
well as an inadequate protection from the cold of winter. 
Muffled up in his " new top-coat," and forgetting his 
advice to his daughter to " hap" her i( mother by 
night and by day," he now, with the opportunity before 
him, of adding to her attire, seemed to act on the com- 
fortless principle of " be ye warmed," or as though she 
had been all spirit, and the bare mention of a future 
state was sufficient to kindle a fire that would warm the 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 159 

whole system. But Martha found she had a body qs 
well as a soul: However, she knew he meant well; 
and this was only one case among many in which she 
had to bear with him, and to look for " treasure in 
Heaven" as a substitute for a little more upon earth. 

Though he rose superior to the trials of this case, 
when immediately engaged in preaching and visiting, 
yet there were moments when its hardships returned 
upon him, so as to lead him to dwell upon them in con- 
versation with his friends. Mrs. L., one of Martha's 
sisters, was possessed of £600 on her marriage. The 
interest of this, should she die first, was to be enjoyed 
by her husband, and then the principal was to revert to 
her own family on his demise. Contrary to the origi- 
nal agreement, £500 of this was made over by the hus- 
band to a member of his own family, and Martha was cut 
off with the remainder. To secure this, she was obliged 
to visit Rochdale, in order to sign the writings ; and, 
being extremely infirm, the expense, added to the diffi- 
culty of conveyance, rendered the journey painful and 
tedious. Samuel thought, on coming to the whole of 
this property, that he would be able to devote more of 
his time to the public service of his Saviour. Looking 
back upon the expense, trouble, and disappointment, he 
observed to Mr. Dawson once, " I have prayed to the 
Lord that he would send me no more miser-money." 
Mr. D. very significantly observed, " I dare say your 
prayer will be answered, Samuel." 

Having received invitations to different places, and 
being generally mounted on his blind but favourite horse 
" Jackey," whom he esteemed for his work's sake — 
having carried the heralds of peace for some years 
round the York Circuit — he was enabled to extend his 
circle. It was in the course of this journey that he left, 
as previously promised, his MS. life with the writer at 
Manchester. He extended his circuit to Bolton, Clith- 
ero, Colne, Addingham, Grassington, Burnley, Padiham, 
Bacup, Rossendale, Bury, Ratcliffe Close, and many 



160 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

of the adjacent and intermediate places. The absence 
of the Rev. W, M'Kitrick from the Burnley Circuit, 
who had been called to Leeds to attend to some family 
arrangements, led Samuel to remain longer in Burnley 
and its neighbourhood than in some other places, being 
requested to attend to Mr. M'K.'s appointments. The 
effects of the " general panic," so called, were still ex- 
perienced both by the manufacturers and their men ; 
and few districts suffered more than the one from fifteen 
to twenty miles round the circle in which he laboured. 
The sick and poor were the objects of his constant so- 
licitude ; and many were the scenes of distress he wit- 
nessed, as well as the cases he relieved. Writing to a 
friend, he remarks, " I have seen much suffering, and 
many privations since I saw you. The sufferings of 
the people have been neither few nor small. 1 have 
been in the midst of them for three months; and I be- 
lieve my dear Lord and Master has sent me here* 
What with praying with the people, and what with beg- 
ging for them, I have had full employment. I was so 
affected one night that I could not take my rest." 
Though he took a fair sum of his own money into the 
neighbourhood with him, it was soon exhausted. The 
friends were kind to him in granting him supplies ; but 
he was always poor, — for no sooner were his resources 
recruited than he flew to "the haunts of wretchedness, 
prayed with the people, conversed with them, and wept 
over them. One circumstance which affected him more 
than almost any other which came under his observa- 
tion was, the ca%e of a poor child whom he saw sitting 
and satisfying the cravings of hunger by devouring some 
grains which had been brought from a brew-house. 

On finding the demands made upon his benevolence 
pressing him beyond what he was able to endure, he 
asked some friends whether something could not be 
done by way of public subscription. He was answered 
that the bulk of the people were poor, and that- the ma. 
nufacturers were equally distressed with the persona 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 161 

they had employed, and were obliged to dismiss, because 
of a want of trade and public confidence. He was in- 
formed, however, that there was one gentleman in the 
neighbourhood, of great opulence, who was capable of 
imparting seasonable and adequate relief— only/ the in- 
formants intimated, that he was a member of the Roman 
Catholic church, and might not be quite accessible to 
persons making protectant appeals. " No matter what 
he is," returned Samuel, " the people are not to starve,'* 
Addressing the same friend, in the letter just referred to 7 
he observes, " I asked them to go with me, but they 
refused, because of his religion. I told them, that the 
Lord had the hearts of all men in his keeping, and that 
he kept the hearts of the Roman Catholics also. I went 
to the Lord and asked him to go with me/' It was too 
late in the evening for him to present the case ; but he 
was up betimes the next morning, when, mounted on his 
favourite horse, he proceeded to Towneley Hall, near 
Burnley, tbe residence of Peregrine Edward Towneley, 
Esq. He knocked at the door, and the knock being 
answered by a servant not in livery, whom he thought 
sufficiently gentlemanly in his appearance to be the 
master of the domain, he asked at once, •' Are you Mr. 
Towneley, Sir ?" Being answered in the negative, he- 
enquired, " Can I see him, Sir?" The servant replied 
he could, and showed him into a room. Mr. Towneley 
soon appeared, and, with his usual promptitude, frank- 
ness, and condescension, enquired the errand of his vi- 
sitor. Mr. T., though perfectly gentlemanly in his 
manners — which the biographer knows from personal 
interview — yet happens to be one of those characters 
who prefer their real worth to be brought to the test of 
the understanding and the heart, rather than in the show 
of fashion and finery to the eye. His attire, therefore, 
being somewhat less prepossessing than that of the per- 
son who opened the hall-door, Samuel had recourse to 
his old question, to ascertain the fact — " Are you Mr. 
Towneley, Sir?" This point being settled, he pro- 

r 2 



162 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH- 

ceeded with his " tale of woe" — stating what he had 
seen, heard, and done, finally bringing the subject home 
to the bosom and to tho coffers of his auditor. " I am 
come, Sir," said he, " to relate to you the suffering 
state of the poor in Burnley. I have bean a month in 
the neighbourhood ; and my employment has been to 
visit them. Many of them are without religion. It 
affects my mind that I cannot help them. I have given 
all the money I had ; I am now between 50 and GO 
miles from my own home ; and if I had a turnpike gate 
to go through, I have not a penny to pay it with. If 
something is not done for the poor, they will be pined 
to death, and it will bring a judgment upon our island." 
" The poor," returned Mr. Towneley, " must be re- 
lieved ; but how is it to be done ?" Samuel replied, — 
" The best way will be to call a meeting of the respect- 
able inhabitants of the town, and to form a committee ; 
and then present relief will be given." Mr. T. was 
affected with his simplicity, and being convinced of his 
integrity, observed, that, if any measure could be de- 
vised to promote the public good, he would with great 
pleasure accede to it, and would set the example of a 
public subscription. He further added, that he would be 
glad to meet a committee of gentlemen, at the earliest 
period, and at any hour of the day- Samuel proceeded, 
" This noble man sent the next morning, by his steward^ 
£150 for the sufferers." A public meeting immediately 
followed for the purpose of taking into consideration the 
distress of the poor ; and if the " Village Blacksmith" 
had not the credit of entirely originating — of which per- 
haps few will be disposed to rob him — he was, at least, 
the cause of hastening it. 

Suffering in this case, as in many others, led to vio- 
lence. But, said Samuel, " My soul was kept in perfect 
peace in the midst of all. Our friends would not let me 
leave them till the disturbances ceased. I prayed for 
the people, and warned them of their danger. I told 
them, that if they did not drop it, they would be cutoff: 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. , 163 

and the Lord stayed the wrath of man. When the Lord 
works, he works like a God.* He stopped the way of 
the wicked." 

The writer attended a missionary meeting at Clithero, 
in the course of the spring, at which Samuel was pre- 
sent, and at which he spoke. Samuel preached on the 
occasion, early in the morning, and improved the case 
of the gaoler at Philippi, recorded in the Acts of the 
Apostle, taking for his text the 31st verse. Many of the 
thoughts were original — some of them touching — not a 
few pertinent — but, as a whole, without connexion. 

Though his addresses, from a want of classification, 
might be brought under the general appellation of Truth 
at random, still it was Truth ; and as such, God, in the 
aboundings of his mercy to the sinner, and in conde- 
scension to the instrument, honoured it with the stamp of 
his own signet, A person but indifferently skilled in 
incentives to vanity, asked Samuel one day how it could 
be accounted for, that, while some of the most polished 
and systematic discourses of some preachers fell point- 
less upon the hearts of the hearers, his homely addresses 
took such effect. " Why," returned Samuel, "■ their 

* A poor, but pious negro. woman, being addressed by her 
teacher on the goodness of God, was asked, whether she- was not 
astonished at his mercy in giving his Son, and his condescension 
in giving that Son for her. She replied, she was not. Supposing 
she was not sufficiently impressed with the subject, and defective 
in the fine feeling of gratitude, he continued to expatiate on the 
vastness and freedom of his iove, giving additional emphasis to 
his language, and colouring to his subject, closing again with the- 
question, " What, are you not astonished at this ?" " No, Mas- 
sa," was still the reply. Turning upon her with a degree of 
impatience, M and why are you not astonished ?' ? lie enquired. 
'• Why, Massa, me no astonished, because it be just like him !'*' 
The simplicity and sublimity of this sentiment, which borders 
npon that of Samuel Hick, but leaving him still in the rear, both 
for originality and beauty, is rarely to be equalled by the sayings 
of persons in educated society, and fills us with regret to think 
that the body of a mind so fit for freedom, should be in bondage 
to one probably many degrees her inferior in intellect, 



164 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

preaching is like a line ; they go straight forward, and 
only hit one : but mine goes out and in — to the right 
and to the left, and running this way and that way 
among a crowd," — as though he had a cracker running 
riot in his imagination, thrown among the spectators 
from the hand of a person displaying fire-works — " it is 
-sure to strike some." He employed the same metaphor- 
ical language on another occasion to the Rev. James 
Wood, only varying it in its application. " I cannot," 
said he, " go straight forward in preaching ; but when 
I miss my mark in going, I often fell them in coming 
back again." Another friend urging upon him the pro- 
priety of employing something like system in his ad- 
dresses, told him to divide and sub-divide them like his 
brethren. He was not aware apparently of Samuel's 
want of the power of classification, or of his peculiar 
views of preparatory composition. Listening to his ad- 
viser, with his face towards the ground, as was some- 
times his habit, he turned his view upward, on the 
-closing sentence, and with an expressive look, as well as 
peculiar tone, both indicative of a belief that the speaker 
was not very well versed in the grand secret of useful 
-preaching, — " Why, bless you, barn" said he, " I give 
•it them hot off the bakestone !" indirectly intimating, 
that the spiritual U bread" provided by many of the 
systematizers was very often cold in consequence of the 
time employed in preparation before it reached the 
people. He had long wished the Rev. R. Newton to 
preach at Micklefield ; and, as an inducement, proposed 
to give two of his own sermons for one by Mr. Newton, 
which he thought, with equal sincerity and simplicity, 
would be an equivalent, both in actual labour and pro- 
bable usefulness. This, in Samuel, was not the lan- 
guage of pride and self-sufficiency : he " spoke as a 
child." 

It appears, that, during this tour to " the west," the 
" laborious work," as he expressed himself, through 
which he had to pass, was such as to reduce his physical 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH, 165 

strength. But in the midst of it he could sing, " La- 
bour is rest, and pain is sweet ;" and then would exult- 
ino-ly exclaim, " God has been with me ; if I have lost 
weight in body, I have gained it in soul. He has given 
me strength according to my day." Horton, Wakefield, 
and other places were visited on his return. At one of 
them he took for his text, 1 John i. 7., and was rather 
pleased than otherwise to find that a gentleman had 
taken his sermon in shorthand, and still more so, to 
know that he had been benefited by it, though not a little 
surprised to be presented by him with half-a-sovereigrr 
at the close of the service. While in the Pately-Bridge 
Circuit, which was another of the scenes of his labour, 
in the course of this excursion, he wrote from Mr. 
Bramley's, Brown Bank, and, in his letter, observes, — 
" I am where my soul and body rest in peace — peace 
that the world can neither give nor take away — a peace 
that is constant, " The body and soul resting in peace, 
has all the quiet about it of a saint silently waiting in the 
grave for the morning of the resurrection ; and it was 
this feeling that rendered the " laborious work" just re- 
ferred to — easy, like St. Paul's " light affliction." 

Home had still its attractions, but his zeal permitted it 
to become only a partial resting-place. Passing over 
some other fields, of labour, we find him towards the 
close of July, as appears from his letters, exercising his 
talents at Stamford-Bridge, Copmanthorpe, Aeomb, and 
other places in the York Circuit, and pressed to pay 
another visit to Bolton. One part of his business was, 
to beg for a chapel ; and, " for every sovereign re- 
ceived," he observed, " God gave his brethren and 
himself a soul." But though " plenty of money" was 
obtained, " no small stir" was made by the enemies of 
religion when they witnessed the grace of God in the 
new converts. In the neighbourhood of Stamford- 
Bridge, especially, persecution showed its odious front 
in the steward of a gentleman of landed property, when 
threatened to turn the farmers off their farms if they per- 



166 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

sisted in attending the ministry of the Methodist preach- 
ers. Samuel " thought this a very hard case," and 
proceeded at once to the fountain-head for redress — to 
the landed proprietor himself. He told the gentleman, 
that he came to u beg a favour." On being asked the 
purport of his request, he replied, " To ask you to let 
your tenants, have the same liberty the king grants his 
subjects." Though partly alive to the subject, the reply 
demanded further explanation ; and Samuel added, — 
*' To let youY tenants go to the Methodist chapel." The 
gentleman, with considerable warmth, interposed his 
interdict, stating, that they should not. Samuel conti- 
nued to urge his plea, by a&irming that the tenants ob- 
jected to svere the best " church-goers" in the neigh- 
bourhood — -that there was service in the Established 
Church only in the forenoon — and that they wished to 
fiear the Methodists in the afternoou. The threatening 
of the steward, which now appeared to be only the echo 
of the master's voice, was repeated and confirmed ; and 
one of the reasons assigned was, that the " Methodists" 
were " a disaffected people." This was a tender 
|)oint. " Sir," said Samuel, " you do not know them 
bo well as I do- I have known them fifty years. They 
are the most loyal body of people living, and they are 
-doing more good than any other people upon earth : 
and, Sir, I think it very hard that you should attempt to 
prevent your tenants from praying to God, who is send- 
ing his judgments abroad in our island, when prayer is 
the only weapon that can turn them aside." Samuel, 
alas, was dismissed without obtaining the object of his 
petition : but he still exulted in the firmness and perse* 
verance manifested by the persons against whom the 
the threatening was directed, and over whom it hung 
like an angry cloud ; rejoicing especially in one whom 
he claimed as a " name- sake." 

He paid another visit to York, and Stamford-Bridge, 
in March, 1827 ; and in a letter, like a song of triumph, 
observed that he was in his (i element" — had " lived 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 167 

to see good clays" — never " saw such a revival before'' 
— that if the Lord would only grant him the desire of 
his heart, a " general revival," he would then " say, 
with old Simeon, Now, Lord, let thy servant depart in 
peace, for mine eyes have seen thy salvation" — that 
he had been " assisting to hold a love-feast," and 
though he had been " a Methodist for so many years," 
he never experienced such a love-feast in all his life 
— that the sum of " eleven pounds had been collected 
in it for the poor" — that the " family increased" so 
rapidly, another chapel would be necessary — that the 
" friends in York liked" his " doctrine of sanctifica- 
tion" — that several had obtained " liberty" while he 
was preaching in St. George's Chapel — and that " some 
had been sanctified :" then turning upon Martha, whom 
he was addressing, he proceeded, " I hope you are 
getting hold of the hem of our Lord's garment. You 
shall be made whole. I know you once enjoyed sanc- 
tification.* The fountain is still open. The Spirit and 
the Bride say, Come." 

* Martha deprived herself of an occasional blessing, through 
the natural warmth of her temper : and the great difference in 
Samuel, between his converted and unconverted state, is percep- 
tible in the effect he permitted it to have upon his mind, In the 
first instance, he either rebelled or fled from it ; in the second, he 
was all meekness, exhortation, and anxiety to see her enjoying the 
perfection of the dispensation under which she lived. On one 
occasion, prior to his conversion, he left the house, with an 
intention never to return. A friend asking him why he relented, 
Samuel replied, u Why, barn, as I was crossing the field, I saw 
the bonny white lambs playing; they looked so innocent and 
happy, that I thought I could not leave them, and so went back 
again." He was a mere child of nature, and nature here, with 
its innocent gambols, laid a firmer hold of his heart, than the 
recollection of his vows before the marriage altar. But now, as 
Martha had often to bear with him, so, uncomplaining, he bears 
with her; and mutual good is the object of both. Samuel's is 
not the first heart, that has been smitten with tenderness at the 
sight of a lamb ; and than the first glance of the first lamb of the 
season, there is scarcely any thing more calculated to awaken 
the sensibilities of our nature. The associations are too obvious 



168 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

In the course of this visit, a young man heard him 
preach, who stood rebuked before God under the word. 
Nature and grace had a powerful struggle in the onset : 
he was so exasperated at Samuel as to avow, if he ever 
went again to hear him, he would " take a rope and 
hang him with it." Still the subject of conflicting feel- 
ings, he went once more ; but the lion no longer shook 
his mane for the contest: a little child might have led 
him. The same voice which roused his fury, allayed 
it : he became calm — heard with attention — -mixed faith 
with hearing — believed — and was saved. 

to be insisted upon ; and a heart so susceptible of the tender 
and the innocent, is capable of being led in any direction, and 
wound up to any pitch. 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 169 



CHAPTER X. 



His first visit to London-.. -dialogue at an inn on the road — Wesleyan Mis* 
sionary Meeting — preaches at Southwark ...exalts divine truth at the 
expense of human knowledge... .persons benefitted by his addresses — his 
notions of nervous complaints — his second visit to the metropolis. .. .Mrs, 
Wrath all ; her character, experience, and affliction — Samuel's genera! 
views ind feelings, as connected with his second visit — pleads strenuously 
for the doctrine of sanctification — is both opposed and supported in it by 
persons of the Baptist persuasion — receives a gentle admonition from Mar- 
tha — a specimen of one of his public addresses, when in one of his most 
felicitous moods. 



His visit to the metropolis, which has been only inci* 
dentally noticed, deserves to be introduced distinctly 
and at large. He was there twice ; and though a pe- 
riod of eight years occupied the space between, they 
are here classed together, not only because of the affiu 
nity of subject and place, as has been observed in other 
cases, — but because of the non-importance of the one 
compared with the other, rendering a distinct notice less 
necessary. 

It appears, in a communication from Mr. Wrathall to 
the writer, that Samuel's " first visit to London was in 
May, 1819," on which occasion " he remained some- 
what more than a month." Though he had a daughter 
in London, then housekeeper to Mr, W., and other re- 
lations in the neighbourhood, a more powerful spring 
was found in the General Annual Wesleyan Missionary 
Meeting, to give an impetus to his movements towards 

Q 



170 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

the metropolis, than either in friendship or relationship. 
On this trip, he remarks, " I had a very pleasant jour- 
ney, as I had the Lord with me ; and the weather being 
fine, made my way very comfortable. I sung hymns in 
the night to keep me awake." On the coach arriving 
at Retford, time was allowed for the passengers to take 
refreshment, when Samuel and the other persons on the 
outside alighted, together with four gentlemen from 
within. Samuel having as usual beat " quick time," 
suddenly disappeared. One of the inside passengers 
inquired pleasantly of the coachman, where the man 
was who " had been so merry on the top," and was 
answered, that he had " gone into the kitchen." A re- 
quest was immediately sent, inviting him into the dining* 
room, with which he complied. The room, the table, 
and the provision, at first surprised him. To the occa- 
sional and alternate interrogatories of each, he replied ; 
the substance of part of which is as follows, and for the 
brevity of which every coach-traveller will be able to 
furnish an answer, having been repeatedly saluted with 
the horn when his appetite has urged him to stay. 

Gentleman. " We have sent for you, to ask you to sit 
down at table with us." 

Samuel. " I am obliged ; but I have ordered the 
waiter to draw me a pint of ale, and I have plenty of 
beef and bread with me." 

Gent. " You have been such good company, we have 
agreed to treat you with your supper." 

On this he sat down, and partook of their hospitable 
cheer; the four gentlemen and himself constituting the 
party. 

Gent. " How far may you be going tfiis road ?" 

Sam. " To London." 

Gent. " How far have you travelled?" 

Sam. " From Micklefield, near Ferrybridge." 

Gent. " What business calls you up to town?" 

Sam. " I am going to a noble missionary meeting." 

Gent. " Don't youthink you have a poor errand ?" 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 171 

Here an armistice was instantly proclaimed between 
Samuel and his supper ; and, looking expressively at the 
speaker, he said — 

" Sir, I would not turn back if you were to give me 
five pounds for doing it." 

Gent, " Perhaps not. Who pays your expenses ?" 

Sam. " I pay my own, Sir. I have plenty of money ; 
and if you dispute it, I will let you see it." 

Such a confession, in some companies — as he had up- 
wards of £170 upon him — would have been prized, and 
his ignorance of the world might have been improved 
upon ; but he was in honourable company. On his offer 
being declined, another of the gentlemen struck in — 

" There is a great deal of money spent upon the 
heathen. If we are to suppose that the Lord will never 
send them to a place of punishment for not believing in 
a Saviour of whom they have never heard, would it not 
be much better to let them alone ?" 

Sam. " The Lord has declared, that he will give his 
Son the heathen for his inheritance, and the uttermost 
parts of the earth for his possession, — that the gospel of 
the kingdom shall be preached in all the world, — and 
that then will come the end, when all shall know him 
from the least to the greatest." ,. 

He could not enter into the subtleties in which the 
question was involved, and with vvhich it has often been 
perplexed by the selfish, the unbelieving, and the design- 
ing ; but he cast anchor in God's designs, commands, 
and promises, which were the general nations he wished 
to express — his design to save, his promise to give, and 
his command to preach to the heathen f and there he 
remained riding in safety : what God commanded he 
considered himself bound to perform, and what he had 
promised, he knew he was faithful to fulfil. 

Gent. " Do you intend to deliver a speech on the 
occasion ?" 

Sam. " O no : I expect there will be a number of 
gentlemen at the meeting, from all parts of the world, 



172 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

and I hope to have the pleasure of hearing them make 
their noble speeches." 

GenU " If you will promise to make a speech, we will 
come and hear you." 

The conversation was interrupted by the announce- 
ment of the horses being ready to start. Samuel resumed 
his seat and his song, and arrived in safety the next day 
in London. At the public meeting he found his way to 
the platform ; and to his great surprise, one of the 
gentlemen who had regaled him with his supper at 
Retford, took a seat next him, and presented him with 
an orange ; but he was still more astonished, when the 
gentleman's name was announced as R. F., Esq.; of 
Bradford, Yorkshire, who was called upon to second a 
resolution. 

The first chapel he preached in was that of Southwark, 
and the second Hind-street. On the first occasion he 
took one of his favourite texts, James i. 27. A gentle- 
man accosted him after the service, in a frank way, — 
" My good old Yorkshireman, though I could not under- 
stand the whole of your language, part of which might 
have been Danish for any thing I know to the contrary ; 
yet I have had my soul blessed under your sermon. " 
Samuel replied, " It makes no matter, Sir., what the 
language is, if the soul only gets blessed." The gen- 
tleman invited him to spend a day at his house, stating, 
on Samuel observing that, as a stranger, he would not 
be able to find his way, that he would send his servant ta 
conduct him thither. While he was yet in the vestry, 
taking a biscuit and a glass of wine — a treat with which 
he had been but rarely indulged in small country .places 
— a lady entered, enquiring, under strong feeling, whether 
she could see the minister. Samuel supposing the 
enquiry to be for one of the preachers on the circuit, 
Who was present, kept his seat. The preacher went up 
to the lady, and requested to know whether it was the 
person that had been preaching she wished to see. 
Casting a glance round the place, and seeing Samuel, 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. ITS 

she exclaimed, " O yes : that is the person." Samuel 
sprang from his seat, with his wine and biscuit in his 
hand, saying, " What do you please to want with me, 
madam ?" " O, I wish to tell you, Sir," was the reply, 
" what I felt while you were preaching. A trembling 
came all over me, and I could not hold a limb still." 
Samuel who had but one cause for all these things, and 
happened to be correct in this instance, as well as in 
many others, said, " It is the work of the Spirit of God, 
and we will return the Lord thanks for it." The propo- 
sition was accepted ; and he observed, " Though she 
was dressed in fine silks, which crackled again, she 
knelt down on the vestry floor, and while pleading, the 
Lord blessed her soul." 

Another case came under his observation, which was 
more obstinate than that of the lady, and assumed to him 
an air of novelty. He was sent to pray with a gentle- 
man, whose affliction was stated to him to be a " nervous 
complaint." His own nerves being of a wiry make — 
living in a neighbourhood of health — and moving gene- 
rally among that class of people whose nervous system 
is kept continually braced by labour and by the breeze, 
he had to take both his head and his heart to school on 
the subject. The malady assumed an awful appearance 
to him ; for when he entered the room, he remarked, 
that the person ( ' was sunk so low, that he lay on the 
sofa like a dead man." As he had but one cause for 
the stirrings of the human spirit, so he had but one cure 
for most of our maladies. Faith in Christ was his heal- 
all, and was his grand specific here. He spent nearly 
a whole day with the gentleman, either praying with 
him, or sitting by his side, singing hymns, relating his 
experience, and exhorting him to the exercise of faith. 
In his addresses he told him, that it was only " holy 
medicine" that "could cure" him, and that " all the 
doctors in London could not cure a nervous complaint, 
for it was a soul complaint." On parting, the gentleman 
entreated him to repeat his visit, and added, " I would 

Q2 



174 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH, 

freely give all I possess, to be as happy as you are/ 7 
This case made a deep impression on Samuel's mind r 
and in his reflections afterwards, he remarked, " I pity 
any one who is troubled with this dreadful complaint ; 
but I believe many fall into it for want of faith. They 
reason with themselves, and with the enemy, instead of 
reasoning with God, who says, * Come and let us reason 
together.' " Little as honest Samuel knew of the sub- 
ject, he might have been further wrong, than in supposing 
that mental agony will induce physical debility. While 
we cease to wonder that the gentleman should look upon 
his state as enviable, we are convinced that no one, 
except a child in spirit, could have sat and sung hymns 
by the side of so much misery — of one whose spirit was 
tuned only for a " dark-woven lay." 

The principal part of his time was occupied in visiting 
the sick, and in attending the ordinances of God ; and thus 
engaged, he might well say, " 1 was very happy all the 
time I was in London." Business requiring his presence 
at home, he remained only a month in the metropolis. 

His second visit was in 1827, but the day and the 
month when he set off are uncertain ; a correspondent 
connected with the family stating it to have been in May, 
while a letter written by himself bears testimony of his 
having been in Yorkshire in the month of July. The 
memory might have possibly been depended upon in the 
first instance ; and the first visit having been in May, 
might have been the occasion of the error. His daugh- 
ter Rosamond had entered the marriage state with Mr. 
Wrathall y in the intervals of his visits. This took place 
in 1824 ; and it was on account of her long and severe 
indisposition, that he took the present journey. The 
following brief narrative of this excellent woman, whom 
it may be proper here to introduce, was published in the 
obituar}' of the Wesleyan Methodist Magazine, by the 
Rev. Richard Reece :* 

* 1828, p. 499. A curious M Prospectus for publishing the Life 
of the late Samuel Hick, of Micklefield," issued from the press 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 175 

" Mrs. Rosamond Wrathall was daughter of Mr. 
Samuel Hick, of Micklefieid, Yorkshire ; a man gene- 
rally known, and highly esteemed for his usefulness 
among the Methodists for nearly half a century ; and 
who, with his pious wife, considered it their duty to 
impress upon the minds of their children the great truths 
of the gospel. Early indications were given, that the 
heart of Mrs. Wrathall was under the influence of divine 
grace. At the age of seven years her mind was enlight- 
ened to see the evil nature and dreadful consequences 
of sin. Although she was humble and teachable, and . 
very dutiful and affectionate to her parents, yet she felt 
the need of pardon, and of the purification of her nature. 
The period at which she received the blessing of justifi- 
cation through faith in the merits of Christ, is unknown ; 
but it must have been at an early age. During the 
whole of her Christian course she was an ornament to 
her profession, and was greatly attached to the Metho- 
dist connexion. She refrained from evil-speaking, and 
used her influence to restrain the practice of it in others. 
She put on the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit, 
which is in the sight of God of great price. Her dispo- 
sition was naturally generous ; and after her conversion, 
she was constantly devising liberal things. She spared 
no labour nor expense to alieviate the necessities of the 
poor, and lead them to Christ. She was a pattern of 
integrity and piety. At the commencement of her long 
affliction, she was deeply convinced of the need of a 
further work of grace upon her heart ; and desired that 
her excellent father might be sent for, that she might 
enjoy the benefit of his counsel and faithful prayers." 

Samuel, after a safe journey, alighted at the Saracen's 

in ihe summer of 1830, which promised to**' contain the expe- 
rience and happy death of Mrs. Rathall, of London, daughter 
of the deceased, who died whilst he was in London." It is pre- 
sumed that the late Mrs. Wrathall was intended by the author, 
and that, through his ignorance of the subject, he adopted another 
name. 



176 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH, 

Head, and proceeded to the house of his son-in-law. 
He found Mrs. W. very much indisposed. The blessing 
she sought had been the subject of his preaching and 
conversation for many years, as well as the experience 
of his soul ; and his child's anxiety for it led him to dwell 
upon it more than usual, in public and in private, as also 
in his correspondence during his stay in London. " Her 
mind," continues Mr. Reece, " became more and more 
calm and stayed upon God ; she received the blessing of 
entire sanctification, which she so much desired, and 
continued in the exercise of prayer and thanksgiving to 
the end of her life." 

During Samuel's second stay in this human ant-hill, 
whose swarms are always in motion, and whose streets 
gave him the notion, in his own language, of a constant 
"fair" he laboured under the impression, that a great 
work was to be done — done instantly — and that he was 
to sustain a share in the toil and in the glory. He sighed 
over the irreligious part of the community, composed, as 
he stated, of " Jews, Turks, Infidels, and Barbarians," 
all of whom might " believe" in the existence of a " God," 
but " lived as though there were none ;" concluding, 
that if it were not for the " few righteous" to be found 
in the city, it would at once be " destroyed like Sodom." 
With these views, and with a heart thus affected, he 
embraced every opportunity of rendering himself useful, 
and could speak of having " plenty of work" — of being 
often " tired in it, but not of it" — of " preaching in 
chapels and in the open air" — of making u collections 
for chapels and for schools" — of " visiting the sick" — 
attending " lovefeasts" — assisting in prayer-meetings" 
— dining and praying on board some of the vessels on the 
Thames — and, in.the midst of all this, of having " plenty 
of friends," and of being " hearty and happy." One 
of the vessels having to perform only a short voyage, 
and having reached her destination before he left town, 
returning with fruit and spice, he took care devoutly to 
connect with his notice of her safety, the prayer-meet- 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 177 

ing which he himself and some friends held " in the 
cabin," before her departure ; and also to exhort 
Martha, who was not likely to be benefitted by any part 
of the cargo, to make progress in piety, and both he 
and she would hereafter be indulged with a taste of the 
" grapes" of the kingdom, and with " wine on the lees, 
well refined." It was here that he not only attempted 
to moralize, but to philosophize ; stating it to be his 
opinion, that if the Lord had not " sent the tide through 
the city, to sweeten the air, a plague" would have been 
the result ; as though the tide had followed rather than 
preceded the foundation of its walls. But Samuel was a 
Christian, not a philosopher ; his head was less the recep- 
tacle of knowledge than his heart was of grace. While 
he laboured as though the immortal interests of the 
whole of the inhabitants of the city rested upon him, he 
cast a glance of solicitude towards home, telling Mar- 
tha, that it was " not out of sight, out of mind :" and 
requesting to be informed how she was "in body and 
soul;" repeatedly forwarding her not only "parcels," 
but what he knew she "liked" — a "cheap letter." His 
letters indicate also deep anxiety for the prosperity of 
the work of God at Micklefield ; and, among others, an 
ardent desire for the salvation of a " Mr. Coulson." 
Nor did he forget his " old servant Jackey," whom he 
wished to be attended to, and preserved in his blindness 
from falling into the " boors."* His desire to be useful 
led him to request Martha to enlarge his "furlough;" 

* His partiality to this animal arose chiefly from the eircumu 
stance of it having carried Rev. David Stoner around the York 
circuit, to whom he was warmly attached, both as an eminent 
servant of God, and as having been born near his own home 
And yet, for this very attachment, Samuel might have stood re- 
buked by his own words. Being at Aberford fair once, and 
walking with his friend Mr. Dawson among the crowd, he was 
met by an acquaintance. " You look cast down," said Samuel ; 
" what is the matter with you ?" " I have lost a fine horse," was 
the reply, naming its value. '* Why, bless you, man, you made 
d god of it, and worshipped it : I worshipped a fine ewe once, and 



178 ' THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

intimating at the same time his readiness to return on 
the first notice of his being " wanted at home.*' 

The only personal indisposition of which he had to 
complain, was a slight attack of cholera morbus, which 
he believed he had caught from one of the young men 
resident in the house, and which he therefore charac- 
terized as " smittle." * One of the most relieving con* 
siderations to his mind under it was — and this shows his 
anxiety to be useful — that it had not been permitted to 
"take" him from his "work." The sudden death of a 
female — the affliction of his daughter— and the daily 
funeral processions along the streets of the city, produced 
a quickening influence upon his soul, and furnished him 
with seasonable preaching and conversational topics, 
grounding on the whole the necessity of a constant pre- 
paration for another state of being. 

His peculiarities in manner and dialect attracted 
attention ; and among others with whom he conversed, 
and who were induced to hear him preach, were some 
persons of the Baptist persuasion. While a few of 
these contested the doctrine of " entire sanctification" 
with him, others of them admitted its necessity and 
attainment. One of the latter addressed a letter to him 
on the subject, which he intended to insert in his 
" Life." Treating on it in a letter to Martha, he 
observed, " I have preached ever since I came to 
London, a full, free, and present salvation ; and I will 
continue to preach it while I have life and strength. 
Thousands have heard me. I have told them, that if 

God took her away from me." Such was Samuel's consolation 
under loss, and such his occasional views of improper atach* 
ments. 

* A provincialism, denoting any thing contagious. He was not 
a little delighted with what he considered a triumph over the ig- 
norance of some of the metropolitans, who had consulted the 
English Dictionary for the term, he having told them in the course 
of his sermon, that " sin was smittle" — exhorting them to keep 
at the utmost distance from it. 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 179 

the king were to make a decree, that the man preach- 
ing this doctrine should have his head taken off, I would 
at once go to the block, proclaiming as I went, with a 
loud voice, that Holiness belongeth unto the house of 
the Lord for ever, and would there die for it like a mar- 
tyr." 

Preaching in one of the chapels, on " Blessed are the 
pure in heart, for they shall see God," a female who 
had heard him, professed to have received the blessing, 
after having sought it for the space of seventeen years. 
A young man also bore the same testimony, in one of 
the lovefeasts. Some of these cases were entered into 
his home epistolary correspondence, adding to the nar- 
rations, " You see what a poor instrument the Lord can 
work with ! — either by a ram's horn, or by the crowing 
of a cock. But he shall have the glory; he will not 
give it to another; he has purchased it with his blood. " 
These intimations led Martha to look upon his state 
with a little jealousy; and on furnishing him with a 
portion of ballast — a* labour of love for w T hich she was 
well qualified and always ready — he replied to her, "I 
am thankful for your advice ; and I hope God will keep 
me in the dust. I assure you, I have often to cry out, 
■ Lord, enlarge my heart, and fill it.' I sometimes think 
I shall sink under the weight of love : and if I should be 
called away in such a state, O how sweet it will be to 
fall asleep in the arms of Jesus !" 

While urging his hearers to seek holiness, he broke 
out on one occasion, somewhat in the following strain : 
" If any of you had a sum of money left to you by a 
friend, you would put in your claim and prove the will. 
Jesus Christ has made his will ; and his will is your 
sanctification. You may put in your claim for the 
blessing by simple faith. The property belongs to 
every believer. Our Lord made a just will. He left 
all his children share and share alike ; the youngest the 
same blessing as the oldest. ' The weakest believer 
that hangs upon him' may have it, It is faith that lays 



180 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

claim to it. Faith says, ' It is my property.' Faith has 
two hands, It takes hold of the blessing with the one, 
and continues to hold it fast by the other. Stretch out 
the hand of faith then. Take the property your dear 
Lord has purchased for you, and for all believers. " 
This is truth in russet costume ; and yet, homely though 
it be, it is not only more dignified in its character, but 
the imagery is better selected, as well as more consis- 
tently supported, than that which has been sometimes 
employed by doctors and dignitaries.* 

What gave him peculiar pleasure, in reference to his 
favourite theme of sanctification, was, the circumstance 
of receiving an invitation to take tea with two of the 
preachers, at the house of a lady who had travelled the 
path of holiness upwards of half a century, and who 
had entertained the venerable Founder of Methodism. 
With this Christian matron he compared notes; and 
remarked, " She has enjoyed- pu^e religion ever since 
Mr. Wesley's day ; and the best o& all is, she enjoys it 
now. It is natural for us to talk about that which we 
love. Her experience is just the same as mine. I am 
glad when I find any one that enjoys the blessing." 

* In a Sermon preached at courts the celebrated Dr. South 
remarks, in speaking of the delights of a soul " clarified" by 
grace, " No man, at the years and vigour of thirty, is either fond 
of sugar plumbs or rattles." Another observation is, " No man 
would preserve the itch on himself, only for the pleasure of 
scratching." — Sermons, Serm. I. Prov. iii. 17. 

Archbishop Tillotson, in his thanksgiving Sermon before the 
King and Queen, Oct. 27th, 1G92, on Jer. ix. 23, 24, speaking 
of his Majesty's preservation in the field of battle, says' ■* I do 
not believe, that from the first use of great guns to that day, any 
mortal man ever had his shoulder so kindly kissed by a cannon 
bullet." 



TMK VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 181 



CHAPTER XI. 



Continues in London — an epitome of a week's labour — Mrs. WrathaU'tf 
religious enjoyments — Samuel meets with one converted Jew, and attempts 
the Christian improvement of another — preaches out of doors — visits 

Michael Angelo Taylor, Esquire — further account of Mrs. Wrathall 

Samuel's usefulness ... his love of Yorkshire — enjoys a ride in the country 

goes into Kent — tent- preaching — is reproved for loud praying 

his views of death — spiritualizes a thunder-storm — an African — Mrs. 
Wratball's death — Samuel visits Windsor — is rendered a blessing to the 
people — returns to London. .. .is called into Yorkshire to preach a funeral 
sermon. 



In following Samuel during his residence in the metrop* 
olis, it will furnish some variety, if special cognizance 
be taken of the more incidental part of his history. 
His life was one of incident : every motion, like scenic 
representation, told on the eye and the ear of the by- 
stander, unfolding his habitudes and feelings. Though 
no regular journal was kept, the following may be con- 
sidered as nearly in the order, with two or three excep- 
tions, in which the occurrences and conversations took 
place. 

July. Persons visiting the metropolis, like those who 
cross the line for the first time, are obliged to conform 
to certain ceremonies, if not of dipping, at least in dress- 
ing. Samuel's raiment was generally plain, both in cut 
and quality, and, when not employed in the smithy, ex- 
tremely clean. His coat was rarelv permitted to alter 

R 



182 THE VILLAGE ELACKS31ITH. 

its fashion.* The change in London, however, was not 
so much in the shape as in the quality — from plain to 
superfine. £ *My son," said he to Martha, " has or- 
dered me a suit of new clothes ; and your dear Ann, 
whom you love, has bought me a new hat : I never had 
such a hat on my head in my life before." This was as 
much the result of kindness as of necessity. Improved 
in his appearance, and requested to supply a few places 
for the Rev. R. Reece, with whose plan he was" pre- 
sented as his credential, during his engagements at th©. 
Conference, he traversed the city, in something more 
than his ordinary character when at home at Mickle- 
field ; and Martha's lectures on humility were as neces- 
sary occasionally to suppress the stirrings of vanity — 
vanity, however, in some of its least offensive forms, and 
without much of the consciousness of its presence — as 
they were kindly taken. His daughter, with a child's 
fondness, wrote home in one of his letters, in the early 
part of this month, — " My dear Mother, I will give you 
part of father's weekly work. — He went to South wark 
Chapel on Monday morning, at five o'clock ; from 
whence a young gentleman took him home to breakfast,, 
and kept him the whole of the day. He went to a fel- 
lowship meeting at night, and did not reach home till 
ten o'clock. On Wednesday morning he preached at 
City-Road at six o'clock, and did not arrive here till 
tea-time. After tea he went to preach at Albion Street ; 
and to-day he has been at Chelsea Missionary Meeting. 
It is now ten o'clock, and he has just arrived by coach. 
I assure you my dear father is in high glee. He tells 
us that he has had a good time ; and that, while he was 
speaking, the persons upon the platform almost stamped 

* He was once, in the way of compliment, presented by a 
friend with a pair of handsome new trowsers. But they were so 
ill adapted to his person, habits, and other costume, that when 
thus adorned, it looked like the last and present century united 
in the same man : or as though the half of him belonged to some 
one beside himself 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 183 

it down.* They all shook hands with him, told him 
they were obliged \o him for his services, and paid his 
coach-fare. Wherever he goes, the people invite him 
back again. You see how your husband is beloved." 

Though Mrs. W. was pleased with the respect paid 
to her father — and it would have been strange if a little 
natural feeling had not escaped — she remained the 
same humble Christian as before ; nor was it with Sa- 
muel any thing else but the mere ebullition of the mo- 
ment. Personal piety seemed to include every thing 
besides, both in himself and in others ; and the progress 
of it was particularly watched in his daughter. " I be- 
lieve," said he, in writing of her to his partner, " the 
Lord has sent me to London to learn gratitude from the 
heart of your own flesh and blood. I never saw such a 
happy creature, or one more thankful, in all my life. 
She has often been made a blessing to my soul since I 
came hither ; and not only to me, but to others, who 
come to see her in her affliction. She enjoys perfect 
love — that which casts out all fear — and is fit either for 
living er dying. I often think, if you were to see her in 
this happy state, it would rejoice your heart. It is 
above all riches to see a dear child of ours so happy. 
Her dear husband outstrips all the men I ever saw for 
affection. She wants for nothing that the world can 
bestow : and your dear Ann waits upon her with ten- 
derness. They are like a three-fold cord, twisted to- 
gether in love. We have nothing but peace, joy, and 
love." These endearments, together with the kindness 



* Samuel himself was in the habit of stamping, not only when 
others were speaking, but when he himself spoke. A singular 
•scene look place some time prior to this, and nearer his own 
home. Addressing an audience at a public meeting, and being 
very animated, his pondeious movements shook the whole plat- 
form. Just at the moment cf applying a subject, and saying, 
4i Thus it was that the prophets went," the part on which he 
stood gave way, and he instantly disappeared. Fortunately no 
enjury was sustained. 



J 84 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

of friends, and an extensive field of usefulness, led him 
further to observe to Martha, " I find a noble body of 
Methodists in this city, and I am very glad I am one of 
the members of this noble family. If I had you with 
me, we would end our days here." 

As nearly all classes of persons attached themselves 
to him in the line in which he moved, so he found him- 
self comfortable everywhere ; and henee, spoke of hav- 
ing " many homes"— not being " able to supply all" 
his friends with his society. Among others who clung 
to him was a Jew ; but whether on account of his piety 
or singularity, is unknown. A Jew, to Samuel, was as 
great a phenomenon in society as he also was an extra- 
ordinary specimen of an adherent of the Christian 
Faith. Of this singular people he knew very little, ex- 
cept what he had collected from the Bible. Impressions 
of distance, both as to time and place, with him were 
always connected with their history ; and, through his 
associating the holy city and the personal manifesta- 
tion of Christ among them in all his reflections, he could 
scarcely have been more interested, if the fable of the 
Wandering Jew had been realized in his presence, or if 
a Hebrew had stolen out of the sepulchre of his fathers 
at Jerusalem, and, in his travels, had reached England, 
than the concern he felt in looking upon the person in 
question. " I was planned," said he, " to preach in 
City. Road Vestry, and I got into company with a.con- 
verted Jew. He is a fine young man, and is as clear 
in his experience as I am. I was delighted with his 
company. A pious lady has sent him over to London 
to be instructed in divine things. His parents have 
turned him out of doors for becoming a Christian ; but 
the Lord has taken him into his family. He is going to 
College, and he asked me to go with him." The 
young man must either have been extremely ignorant 
of human character, or disposed to amuse himself with 
the weaker part of Samuel's nature, in making to him 
isuch a proposal. However, Satuuel told him that he 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 185 

liad been at " Jesus Christ's College," where he had 
" taken up" his " degrees." He took breakfast and 
dinner with this young convert, and found a difficulty in 
parting with him. 

The interest this case excited led him to think more 
than usual on the state of the Jews; and, turning his 
attention to them, they seemed^to multiply in his sight 
as he passed along the streets. ^This gave rise to his ex- 
pression, that the city appeared to be filled u with Jews, 
Turks, and Infidels." A. genuine son of Abraham kept 
a jeweller and silversmith's shop opposite his daughter's 
house. He often looked at Samuel, while passing his 
door, with the characteristic keenness and expectation 
of a London Israelitish tradesman hoping to benefit by 
the ignorance of an inexperienced countryman. But 
his soul possessed superior attraction to Samuel than 
either his shop or his window ; and he was not without 
hope that he might be of service to him. With unusual 
caution and deliberation he paced backward and forward 
before the old gentleman's door. The morning was 
pleasant, in which he rejoiced. He had not been there 
long before the object of his desire made his appear- 
ance. They exchanged looks, when Samuel accosted 
him, " Bless the Lord ! here is a fine morning." "It 
ish, it ish fery fine," replied the Jew ; immediately in- 
quiring — as he was old, and could not go into the city 
to seek it — " Vat pe te besht news in te city?" " The 
best news that I can hear," replied Samuel, " is, that 
Jesus Christ is pardoning sinners and sanctifying be- 
lievers." " Poh, poh," rejoined the old man, turning 
up his face, " tuff and nonshensh ! it ish all telushion." 
Samuel was as ill prepared for this, as the Jew had 
been for what 'he had advanced, and observed, with a 
view to produce instantaneous conviction — as he con- 
cluded the testimony of his own experience would be 
every way demonstrative to both Jew and Gentile, — 
" If it be a delusion, it is a blessed delusion ; for I am 
very happy in it. No, no, Sir : I know better. I have 

r2 



186 THE TILLAGE BLACKSMITH, 

known, for the last forty years, tiiat Jesus Christ has 
power upon earth to forgive sins, and also, to cleanse 
from all unrighteousness." Alas, for Samuel, he ploughed 
only on the rock : the old man turned his back upon 
him in a rage, as though Samuel had intended to insult 
him — entered his shop — and shut the door in his face, 
Samuel looked after kjm with the disappointment of a 
fowler, who, having discharged his piece, and expect- 
ing the game to drop at a short distanc'e, sees it on 
the wing, and untouched ; yet expressed his gratitude, 
in " not being numbered with unbelievers. " It is not 
a little amusing to find him in the chair of Lavater after 
this, pronouncing his opinion with the precision of a 
physiognomist. " I can tell a Jew," said he, " as I 
pass him on the street ; for his countenance is gloomy 
and dark, — not like that of the Christian, which is cheer- 
ful and pleasant : and who has such a right to be 
cheerful as the man that has Christ formed in him the 
hope of glory V 9 * 

On finding that he could make but little impression 
upon the Jew, he again turned to the Gentile. The 
" morning meetings," at five and six o'clock, which were 
well attended, were among the most salutary he enjoyed. 
On one occasion, a foreigner, who had attended out of 
curiosity, was deeply affected, and three persons pro- 

* This was not his first attempt at physiognomy ; nor was he 
peculiar in his views on the subject. He had read Isaiah, who, 
in speaking of certain characters, says, " The shew of their 
countenance doth witness against them;" and he had a notion 
lhat religion would improve the exterior, as well as the interior, 
of every human being. These views escaped in prayer once, 
while he was imploring the blessing of God upon a female who 
acted in the capacity of cook in a family which he visited. Having 
heard a little of the person in question, and having inferred from 
the peculiar curvature and expression of the face, that she was 
not blessed with a redundancy of the milder qualities which grace 
the softer part of creation, he prayed for the subjugation of every 
improper temper ; and as an inducement to her to seek after per- 
sonal piety, he said he was sure, " if her soul were converted to 
God^she would look five pounds better than she did then." 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. J 87 

fessed to have received the blessing of purity. After 
the meetings he was often taken away to visit the sick 
and pray with the penitent. One of the persons who 
came before him he suspected to be affected with 
worldly sorrow ; and this is the more remarkable, as he 
had more charity than judgment in all cases of distress : 
another he was called to visit, a stationer, was in deep 
-despair. VYkiva view to attract persons who never at- 
tended a place of worship, he turned out into the street, 
and stood up, accompanied by a local preacher, in a 
large square. The householders threw open their win- 
dows to listen to him, and the people continued to crowd 
around him till the congregation might be denominated 
large. A person, in a state of intoxication, threw a 
bunch of flowers at him, and was otherwise turbulent. 
Some of the friends were about to remove him by vio- 
lence, when Samuel said, " Let him alone : he cannot 
hurt me, and I am sure I shall not harm him." The 
man was subdued by the mildness of the address. 
" The lion's mouth," said Samuel, " was stopped." 
While preaching he felt great tenderness of spirit. 
This was soon manifested by the people ; for, in the 
language of Creech, " The melted is the melting 
heart." He exhorted — he beseeched — he reproved — - 
he wept — tire people wept in concert with him — and 
having forgotten his pocket-handkerchief, he borrowed 
one of a friend, to wipe away the tears which rolled 
down his face. The bunch of flowers was hailed by 
him as a slight expression of " persecution," in the 
honours pronounced on which fre "rejoiced." 

Samuel was one who could more readily recollect a 
•kindness than an injury ; and considering himself in- 
debted to Michael Angelo Taylor, Esq., for his licence, 
who then resided in London, and viewing him withal, 
in his own words, as an " old neighbour,", he went to 
White Hall to pay his respects to him. The statesman 
■expressed himself as glad to see him, enquiring lire 
occasion which had brought him to town. On being 



16b THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

informed that it was the affliction of his daughter, Mr, 
T. signified his regret. Samuel, on the contrary, told 
him he felt no sorrow on her account, for she was 
"very happy, and ready for her passage to glory." 
Mr. T. ordered the butler to give him some refresh- 
ment ; the apparent kindness, prompting which, was of 
greater value to Samuel, than the most costly viands. 

Samuel remarked towards the close of the month, as 
Mrs. WraihalPs health smm declined, " Our dear child 
will be safe landed on Canaan's happy shore in a short 
time. I never saw such a patient creature as she is. 
She has not much pain, and will have nothing to do but 
fall asleep. She began to change last week, and grows 
weaker and weaker." Two or three days after, he 
observed, " I have just been giving your dear child her 
breakfast. If you only saw her ij^ her affliction — so 
thankful, so happy, I am sure it would rejoice your 
heart. If she is spared a little longer, it will be for the 
glory of God and the good of those that come to see 
her. She has many friends: I can scarcely go any 
where but I find them. Your dear Ann is a miracle. 
She is not afraid of going out to hear me preach. I 
hope, both you and me, and all our children, and even 
our children's children, to the third -and fourth genera- 
tion, will meet at God's right hand." On the 30th of 
the month, he added, "Your dear child is very happy ;" 
then proceeding to generalize, " we are all peace : Ann 
and I have been taking some refreshment together, and 
have just been at the family altar. I hope you do not 
forget this duty ; and be sure you do not pinch yourself 
for comforts. I often think of you when I sit down to a 
good dinner, and wish I had you, my dear, to share it 
with me. But if we do not sit down at one table now, 
we shall eat at our Father's table together hereafter. 
My lot is cast in a pleasant place. When I want to 
retire to read or write, I have a room to go into. I 
would not swap (exchange) place with the best noble- 
man in this city." 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 189 

August. This mooth presents but little variety, be- 
sides the regular work of preaching, praying, and visit- 
ing, with the exception of a quickening influence in one 
of the prayer-meetings, which was held after he had 
preached, in which a person of the Roman Catholic 
persuasion was awakened. Having to go a consider- 
able distance to his lodgings, he departed from the 
place about ten o'clock at night, leaving, as he express- 
ed himself, "the friends pleading for the slain." Be- 
fore the close of the month, his Yorkshire phrases, his 
zeal, and the influence attending his homely addresses, 
rendered him rather conspicuous among his fellows. 
To this he was not altogether blind ; and remarked in 
the confidence of a man to his wife, " I am well known 
in London : the more work I do, the more I have to do ; 
and when it will all be done, I cannot tell. I have 
great pleasure in it. The Lord is saving souls." 
Then, as before, he urged Martha not to pinch herself; 
•"for," he added, "I am sure we have as much as will 
keep you ; and as for me, my Master, whom I love and 
serve, will supply all my needs out of his abundant 
fulness. The earth is his own property." This was 
not the language that rises out of satiety from present 
indulgence, on finding himself seated at the table of his 
son-in-law, but of confidence in God, who blesses the 
labourer with his hire, because icorthy of it. He had 
no anxiety on his own account ; it only found a place 
in his bosom for others ; and towards these it was gen- 
erally exercised rather in reference to the present exi- 
gencies of any particular case, than with a view to the 
future destiny of the individual concerned. His faith in 
the goodness, power, and veracity of God would never 
suffer him to bring the trials of to-morrow on those of 
io-day ; or by afflictive forebodings, to go out and meet 
his exercises half-way: and even " the evil" of "the 
day," which ought to be deemed "sufficient" by all 
intelligent beings, was deprived of great part of its 
weight with Samuel, and thus rendered light and mo- 



190 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

mentary> through the grace by which he was supported, 
and the glorious hope of a blessed immortality. No- 
thing but personal piety could have enabled him to 
overcome parental feeling so far, as to give him the 
appearance of a being not only all peace, but covered 
with sunshine at the gate of heaven, and just on the 
point of entering, in the midst of a beloved daughter's 
affliction. At the close of this month, as on that of the 
preceding one, he had only to report increasing debility 
with regard to Mrs. W. " Ann and I have been get- 
ting up your dear afflicted child. She is very happy in 
soul, but very weak in body." He waked and watched 
by her with a solicitude like that of a mother rather 
than that of a father, and never permitted his public 
labours to entrench upon the attentions demanded by 
natural affection. 

September. Though happy among the persons with 
whom he associated, his joys were considerably in- 
creased, on any arrival from Yorkshire, whether it turn- 
ed up in the shape of a human face, a letter, or a mes- 
sage. Among several persons noticed, no one was 
viewed with more unmingled pleasure than W. Scarth, 
Esq., of Leeds, who invited him to take tea at his lodg- 
ings — the house of the widow of the late Rev. C. At- 
more— " Where," said Samuel, "we spent a little bit 
comfortable time together." Mr. S. told him that his 
presence and labours would be required at home : this, 
with an oral communication from Ratcliffe Close to pay 
another visit to that place, where he had been so useful 
among the Sunday School children, operated upon him 
like the promise of a week's work to a poor man, who 
is overjoyed with the tidings of a second job before the 
first is finished. His only wish for life arose from his 
desire to be useful. 

Next to a friend from Yorkshire was the delight he 
experienced in again beholding the face of God's cre- 
ation, in a view of the country. His eye had been ac- 
customed to rove over the beauty, the wildness, and the 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 191 

freshness of open rural scenery ; and though he knew 
not the sentiment of the writer who said, " God made 
the country, but man made the town ;" yet he felt like 
a person who saw more of his Maker's hand in the trees 
and in the shrubs, than in a range of buildings — like 
one whose eye had not only a wider range, but whose 
lungs had something like fair play, and with whom res- 
piration seemed to be aided. Mr. Knight drove him 
fifteen miles into the country in a gig. He felt like a 
child let loose from the nursery. Absence had given 
additional richness to the verdure. "I was glad," said 
he, "to see the fields look so green. The Lord is 
sending us a Michaelmas summer, and a fine seed-time. 
He is making up for the loss of last year. Bless his 
dear name ! he is very kind to us. After taking the roc! 
to us, he then shews us his salvation. He never does 
wrong : he does all in love ; and it is well done. What 
we know not now, we shall know hereafter." 

He was favoured with a still further treat, in being 
taken into Kent, by Mr. Cooper 5 who married his niece 3 
and with whom he remained a fortnight. On hits return 
he made a collection for a Sunday School ; and such 
was the concourse of people, that he was obliged to 
preach out of doors. The collection amounted to about 
double the sum to what it had been on any former occa- 
sion. 

Mr. Poeock*s plan of tent ■'preaching, which had 
reached the metropolis, presented a novel scene to 
Samuel ; and in one of these he held forth the word of 
life. But in no meeting, of a purely religious charac- 
ter, did he appear so much in his element, as in those 
he held after preaching, to which there has been such 
repeated reference. In one of these, in the course of 
this month, after he had made a collection for a chapel, 
which had undergone some repairs, he gave the people 
an account of a plan adopted in the York circuit, during 
a revival. He told them that the friends "set three 



192 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

benks"* (benches),— one for penitents — another for 
backsliders— and a third for those that wanted full sal- 
vation ; and that while they sung a verse or two of a 
hymn, the people filled the berths. They then went to 
prayer, and the Lord poured out his Spirit upon them. 
Whether this systematic plan was adopted by the metro- 
politans on the occasion, is not stated ; but it is affirmed, 
that ten persons were blessed, — some with pardon, and 
others with the sanctification of the Spirit. He closed 
the month by attending one of the Quarterly Meetings, 
and by preaching at St. George's Chapel. His excel- 
lent daughter continued to approach nearer and nearer 
the grand boundary line which divides time and eternity 
— her fairest prospects on the one side, and her infirmi- 
ties only on the other. 

October. While some of the preachers and friend^ 
were characterized by Samuel as " flames of fire," 
there were others who were less favourable to his mode 
of proceeding, and of course required more zeal. But 
having only one straight forward course, admonitory 
interpositions were generally fruitless. A female hav- 
ing been convinced of sin while he was preaching on 
Rom. viii. 13, was in deep distress in one of the prayer 
meetings. He knelt down to pray for her ; and expe- 
riencing unusual freedom, he elevated his voice to an 
extraordinary height. "One of the London preachers," 



* This appears to be from the Saxon henc, a long seat ; as 
banc, in the same language, signifies a long heap of earth. It is 
hence that our bench is derived. Bankan, a bank; Maingk, Beinse 
and Benk, a bench ; Bank and Bench being one and the same 
word, signifying a long sitting place, as in the case of the British 
judges, who sat for ages upon banks instead of benches. It is 
the same with the Irish Bale, which anwers to the Bale of the 
Welsh, and denotes a balk of land, as also does a bench. Ban- 
quet is supposed to be a slip of the same root. Banquegeal is to 
feast, and Banuez, Banket is a feast ; the idea being taken from 
sitting to a table, as Cinio is a feast ; and Ciniau, Cuynos a table, 
from sitting on banks or benches to it, as Banquette, in French, 
is at present a smalfbank in fortification. 



• THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH, 193 

said he, " came to me, and pulled me by the coat. I 
asked him what was the maltSr \ and he told me not to 
pray so loud, as another person was in distress in the 
chapel, and it produced confusion. But I took no no- 
tice of the discharge : I prayed on till the Lord set her 
soul at liberty ; and she declared it in the great congre- 
gation. " He added, "It is better to obey God than 
man." He had never learned to sound a retreat ; " On- 
ward," was his motto in every thing that concerned the 
soul ; and this he was constantly urging upon others, as 
well as dwelling upon himself. To a friend, he observ- 
ed, about the same time, " I hope, my dear brother, you 
are still going on in the good old way, which leads to 
glory and to God. If we get religion to live with, we 
shall have religion to die with." Then, with no bad 
attempt at smartness, he asked, " Die, did I say ? No, 
that is a wrong term for a Christian. It is religion to 
fall asleep with. When David finished his work, he 
slept with his fathers. The prophets also fell asleep ; 
and St. Paul asks, ' O death, where is thy sting ? 
Thanks be to God, who giveth us the victory," through 
our Lord Jesus Christ.'" It was the consciousness of 
preparation which he carried about with him, that de- 
prived death of its terrors, and kept alive the notion of 
sleep — of a person just closing his eyes, and going to 
rest after the toils of the day. 

It was as natural for him to converse on religious 
subjects, as it was to breathe ; and almost as impossible 
for him to see or hear any thing, without connecting 
religion with it. After a tremendous night of thunder, 
lightning, wind, and rain, on the 10th of the month, he 
remarked, " We have been spared from the threatening 
hand of a kind protector ; but I am afraid we shall hear 
of many lives being lost on the wide ocean. The ram 
has washed the tiles and the streets clean. The tiles 
look as if they were new. My prayer is, that God 
would send a thunderstorm into every sinner's heart, 
and the lightning of his Spirit, to enlighten every sin- 

S 



194 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

ner's conscience ; and ttat he would, by the precious 
blood of Christ, cleanse fib hearts of all true believers, 
as he has washed the tiles and the streets of this city." 

He had laboured and prayed much for the heathen ; 
and though divided from them by seas and continents, a 
circumstance occurred, which appeared to bring them 
to his own door, in the person of a black, who sat as his 
hearer in one of the chapels. His hue awakened all 
Samuel's sympathies for the negroes of the West India 
Islands. So much was his mind absorbed in the sub- 
ject, that the whole congregation of whites appeared to 
be concentrated in this swarthy son of Ham. He told 
them that God was no respecter of persons, — that per- 
sons of all nations working righteousness, were accept- 
ed of him, — and that colour, size, and age, made no dif- 
ference to him, provided they came as penitents to his 
footstool. Such were the effects produced by his point- 
ed and personal appeals, that the black got up in the 
midst of the people, and attested the goodness of God 
personally to himself, in the forgiveness of all his sins. 
Samuel went home with him — he being in comfortable 
circumstances — and took supper with him ; and was 
pleased to find, that " he had as clear a witness of the 
Spirit as a white man." The last expression would 
seem to indicate as though he had been infected with 
the slave-holder's cant, that negroes are an inferior race 
of beings, and incapable of improvement ; and for the 
weakest and most innocent minds to receive a taint from 
the opinion, in its progress through European society, 
only shews the necessity of mooting it, by opposing to it 
the stubbornness of fact, in instances of religious and 
intellectual improvement. 

Mr. • Wrathall received a letter from Grassington 
about this time, requesting his presence, on account of 
the indisposition of his uncle, to whom he was left exe- 
cutor, and who was in fact at the point of death. Mrs. 
WrathalPs increasing debility rendered the prospect of 
absence the more painful. However, the certainty of 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 1 95 

her father's society was an agreeable compensation for 
the temporary loss proposed. In writing home on the 
11th, he remarked, " Your dear daughter Rosamond is 
much better this morning than she has been for some 
days past. We thought a few days ago she was about 
to enter her eternal rest. But the Lord does all things 
well. She has been made a blessing to many. She 
expressed her thankfulness for her food this morning, 
and gave out that verse, ' We thank thee, Lord, for this 
our food. 5 I believe I shall have cause to bless God to 
all eternity for her." Her bodily improvement, alas ! 
was but of short duration ; for she died on the 17th of 
the month, a blessed witness of the power of God to 
save to the uttermost. 

Samuel continued in London after the decease of his 
daughter, till January, 1828, in the early part of which 
month he paid a visit to Windsor, partly out of respect 
to it as the seat of royalty, and partly in compliance 
with an invitation from some friends ; and was escorted 
thither by a person from town. A pious soldier of the 
name of Wm. Emmott, a corporal in the Royal Horse 
Guards, was the only person with whom he had any 
acquaintance. He preached on the evening of his arri- 
val, and held a prayer meeting afterwards. So much 
were the people pleased and profited, that they request- 
ed him to remain with them a few days. Mr. Pollard, 
the superintendent, wrote to Miss Hick, his daughter, 
who was at Mr. WrathalPs, January 7th, stating his 
intention. Part of the note is, " Your father is going to 
stay with us at Windsor over the next sabbath. He is 
very happy and useful." Samuel added on the same 
page, " My dear child, this morning I am in my glory. 
The Lord poured out his Spirit at the prayer-meeting 
last night. Four souls obtained liberty ; and many 
were blessed. If spared till to-morrow r , I am hown to 
see Dr. Clarke. He has sent word, that he will give 
me a week's board. There is a great work to do in 
this place ; and you know I love the Lord with all my 



196 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

heart. I have been at the king's stables, where my 
brother-in-law conversed with his Majesty. Our bro- 
ther Jeb is with me, who will return to-day. God bless 
you all. You must take me in when I come." 

He was shewn over the grounds and Castle of Wind- 
sor. The road leading up to the palace, the flight of 
steps, the rooms, the paintings, and the extensive pros- 
pect from the summit — presenting, he observed, " a 
view of twelve counties" — were what appeared to have 
fixed attention, ard left his mind, like a " chamber of 
imagery," imbued with their various forms. And yet, 
much as he was impressed with these, they did not 
excite the emotions of which he was the subject, when 
he could connect any thing celestial or devotional with 
what passed in review. Thus the representation of the 
late lamented Princess Charlotte, with her infant, as- 
cending to heaven, fired his fancy, and melted his 
heart. " It was," in his own language, "as naturable 
(natural) as life." But fascinated as he was with this, 
a stronger feeling was produced — only not* so perma- 
nent — by the sight of the old cushion — to which allusion 
has been already made — upon which his Majesty 
George III. knelt during his morning devotions. "The 
cushion," said Samuel, " was worn through with con- 
stant kneeling. I kneeled me down upon it, and 
prayed that the time might come when all his Majesty's 
subjects would wear out their cushions with praying." 
This "divine breathing," though oddly expressed, was 
sincere ; and few, perhaps, have been the persons that 
have approached his prayerful example on visiting the 
royal domain. 

The following selections from a letter written just 
before he left Windsor, will shew the spirit in which he 
continued: "Thursday was spent to the glory of God. 
I preached at Chertsey, about two miles from Windsor, 
at night, and held a prayer-meeting. Many were 
blessed. Friday was spent in singing and in prayer. 
We had a prayer-rneeting at night. Bless the Lord ! 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH* 197 

a* 
after a good night's rest, I arose happy in my soul. I 

had a good preparation for the second sabbath of the 
new year. Praise the Lord, O my soul, and forget not 
all his benefits. I preached on the Sunday forenoon, 
and held a lovefeast in the afternoon. It was a pre- 
cious time to my soul ; and the friends told me they 
never had such a lovefeast before, After preaching at 
night, we had a great outpouring of the Spirit of God. 
This is truly a wicked place. There are many soldiers 
in it. Methodism is very low ; but I hope the time will 
come when it shall blossom like the rose. Most of the 
people in the town appear to be going the church-way, 
blindfold, to hell. The King has his residence at this 
place ; and the people, like the Romans, must worship 
like their King. But I pray that the churches may be 
supplied with gospel-preachers ; and then they will be 
filled with gospel. hea^prs. May the Lord hasten that 
happy day !" 

On his return to London, where it is probable his 
stay would have been still protracted, he found a sum- 
mons from Yorkshire, requesting his presence, to dis- 
charge a debt of friendship. Mrs. Pullein, of Follifoot, 
had exacted a promise from him, that in the event of his 
surviving .her, he should preach her funeral sermon. 
On her demise, the family wrote to Samuel. His 
friends told him it was not necessary he should go then, 
— that he should go on purpose, — or even take a jour- 
ney at all of such a distance, at his age, and during 
such a season, to preach a single sermon, particularly 
as there were preachers in Yorkshire who could supply 
his lack of service. But though thev knew the nature 
of a promise, they felt nothing of its responsibility 
pressing upon their consciences, and could therefore 
satisfy themselves with what they were not personally 
called upon to discharge. Samuel felt it in all its 
weight, and connected with it all the solemnities of the 
occasion, and said, "When I meet Mrs. Pullein in the 
morning of the resurrection, and she asks, ' Sammy, did 

s 2 



198 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

not you promise to preach my funeral sermon? 5 what 
shall I say? I have promised, and must go." He 
obeyed the call. He took for his text Numbers xxiii. 
10, "Let me die the death of the righteous;" on read- 
ing which he closed the Bible, and said to the people, 
"Now, if you will live the life, you shall die the death 
of the righteous ; and much more than this I cannot tell 
you, if I were to preach to you ever so long." Though 
he had travelled upwards of two hundred miles to 
preach this occasional sermon, he only spoke about ten 
minutes. 

His warm and kindly feelings, and the utter intract- 
ability of his nature to bend to the becoming gravities, 
whether real or assumed, of funeral occasions, would 
sometimes disturb the serious aspect of a whole com- 
pany. As he knew no feelings, except those which he 
ordinarily carried about with hirfi, so he had but one 
face, one attitude, one mode of expressing himself, 
whatever might be the event or the circumstances in 
which persons might be placed. His sincerity, and his 
ignorance of all etiquette, would admit of nothing else. 
Thus, several years prior to this, he was invited to 
attend the funeral of Mrs. W., of Garforth, on the 
occasion of whose death a sermon was preached, and 
afterwards published, by the Rev. J. Wood. A cold 
collation was provided for the friends on the day of in- 
terment, which, as the company was large, was served 
up in a malt kiln, where one party succeeded another, 
returning, when refreshed, to a large room. Samuel, 
with others, had made preparations for a funeral ser- 
mon. His text, he told the friends, was given to him 
in sleep ; on which occasion, he had roused Martha, as 
he had done in reference to the dream which sealed his 
call to the ministry, and to which she paid equal atten- 
tion, when the information was communicated. The 
text was, "I was an hungred, and ye gave me meat." 
But honest Samuel, not being favoured with a concord- 
ance, was unable to advert to the book, the chapter, and 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 199 

the Verse, where it was to be found, and therefore had 
to institute an enquiry among his friends for his further 
satisfaction. He had a heart to receive the impression 
which truth made upon it, and memory sufficient to 
retain the sentiment, and often the form of expression ; 
but, like many others, of much more reading, the com- 
mon- place book of his recollection could not in every 
instance carry the penman's title and his page. The 
mind being set at rest, as it regarded the text, and the 
excellencies of the deceased being the subject of con- 
versation, Samuel wept, and in the midst of his tears? 
sent forth the smile of joy at the thought of another soul 
having weathered the storm of life, and obtained firm 
footing on the opposite shore, where the heaving surges 
are smoothed down to a "sea of glass." He intimated 
his intention to preach a sermon on the occasion of her 
death, in one of the chapels ; and stated further, with 
his usual artlessness — not aware that the disclosure 
would subject him to a little concealed pleasantry, that 
he had penned his thoughts on the subject, placing his 
hand to his pocket, with a still further intimation, that 
he had the MS. with him. Some of the friends, who 
were less the subjects of sorrow than the immediate 
relations of the deceased, perceiving that he only re* 
quired an invitation to bring the production to light, 
and knowing the singular character which his thoughts 
assumed in the dress in which they were generally 
arrayed, requested him to read what he had penned to 
the company, — hoping witha^ that some gems might 
turn up that would interest the hearers. Samuel took 
hold of his pocket with one hand, and the MS. with the 
other, and drew it forth, a good deal sullied, and cramp- 
ed, as though it had been forged in the smithy, and lain 
in his pocket with other things since it had been writ- 
ten. He sprung from his chair — proceeded across the 
room — placed his glasses in order — turned his shoulder 
to the window, and the MS. to the light — looked and 
looked again — occasionally contracting his eyes, and 



200 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

adding to the adjustment of his spectacles. Not suc- 
ceeding to his wishes, he turned the other shoulder to 
the window — permitting as much of the light to fall 
upon the paper as possible — hemming, and stammering, 
and shuffling — till at length, in a fit of impatience and 
disappointment, and without being able to work his way 
through a single sentence, he threw it down on the 
table before the Rev. J. Wood, saying, " There, Mr. 
Wood, — I cannot read it — take it, and try what you can 
do with it;" smacking his glasses into their case, like a 
sword into its scabbard, and stalking across the room 
again to his seat. When it is remarked, that this was 
too much for the gravity of Mr. Wood, the reader is left 
to conjecture the effect produced upon others. Yet, 
with all this, Samuel was left the subject of weeping, 
smiling, unsuspecting simplicity, 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH; 201 



* 



CHAPTER XII. 

'Takes a tour through different parts of Yorkshire — low state of the work of 
God at Warter .. .gives the preference to vocal music in a place of worship 

goes into the Snaith circuit — Goole — meets with old friends — i« 

affected with early recollections, on visiting the tcene of Martha's juvenile 
days — prayer-meetings — returns to Yorkshire — labours in the Easing- 
wold circuit — is again cheered with the sight of old associates — hi* 
increasing popularity — meets with a serious accident by a fall from his 
horse... .his conduct when under medical attendance — is visited by Mr, 
Dawson -...his partial restoration to health — visits the West Riding.... 
proceeds into Lancashire — is attacked by an infidel while preaching out 
of doors at Bolton — is summoned by letter to Grassington — becomes 
seriously indisposed — witnesses the happy death of his niece — returns 
home — declines rapidly in health — attends to some funeral arrangements 
....his state of mind — his triumphant death — the general sympathy ex- 
cited on the occasion — conclusion. 

On his return home, he continued with the same dili- 
gence which had previously distinguished his conduct, 
to benefit his fellow-creatures. The great religious 
institutions of the nineteenth century, were styled by 
him " the seeds of the Millenium ;" and every act of his 
own was viewed as an effort to force the shoots ; — a 
tree this, which will throw its mighty shadow over 
every nation under heaven. 

The year (1828) was begun in the spirit in which 
its predecessor had closed — a spirit purely devotional. 
Having been at home a short time, he again left it, and 
went into the Pocklington circuit, tarrying a night on 
the road, at the house of his old friend, Mr. Peart. 
One of the travelling preachers being indisposed, he 
was requested to supply a few places. At Warter, in 



202 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

the neighbourhood of the Wolds, which was the place 
where he opened his commission, he found but little of 
that fermented feeling which he had seen manifested in 
the neighbourhood of York. He found preaching here, 
he remarked, " as hard work as labouring at the anvil. " 
The word seemed to rebound upon himself, and so to 
"return void." "There was as great a difference in 
the climate, for religion/ 5 continued he, between the 
district he had left, and that upon which he had entered, 
"as between summer and winter." But he "claimed," 
as he stated, his " privilege of having a prayer-meeting 
after preaching," an4 requested those who were desir- 
ous of pardon, "to come up to the benk." The wife of 
a blacksmith was one who acceded to the proposal ; and 
having been some time under religious awakenings, was 
prepared for the consolations of the Spirit of God, which 
she obtained through the exercise of faith in Christ. 
At Pocklington, Elvington, and Sutton-upon-Derwent, 
he was exceedingly happy in his work. 

From he&ee he proceeded to Selby, and attended the 
March Quarterly Meeting. Here he was hospitably 
entertained by Mr. B. Clarkson. His congregations 
were large, and the blessing of God attended his la- 
bours. He was especially delighted with the singing. 
" I never heard such singing before," he remarked : 
" they have no instruments — no fiddles — no organs. 
They sing with the spirit, and with the understanding 
also. I thought when I heard them, if our friends at 
Leeds would only use their voices to praise the Lord, 
it would not only be more pleasing to him, but they 
would be more blessed in their souls ; for singing is 
worshipping God. 1 ' This is the common sense view of 
the subject ; and the last sentence falls with the weight * 
of a destructive hammer upon every instrument of 
music in a place of Christian worship. He spoke of 
peace and prosperity in the Selby circuit, and hoped 
that the time would soon come, when, in other places, 
" party zeal would be driven to its own hell," 



g THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 203 

The port of Goole, a place in the Snaith circuit, had, 
in the space of six years, increased in its population 
from two hundred to nearly one thousand inhabitants. 
A Wesleyan Society had been established for a number 
of years ; and the place in which they worshipped lat- 
terly, was a temporary erection, raised at the expense 
of the Aire and Calder Canal Company, and in which 
a number of Sunday scholars were taught. The place 
being small and uncomfortable, the friends agreed to 
build a chapel, towards which Mr. Hamer, who was the 
first to enter his name, subscribed £50. On the same 
day, and in the course of a few hours, upwards of £100 
was promised. One of the Snaith friends having heard 
of Samuel's success in different instances, requested 
that he should be invited to aid them. He was accord- 
ingly written to ; but the letter not reaching him imme- 
diately, if at all, he did not proceed thither, till one of 
the circuit preachers had personally expressed to him 
their wish. 

He proceeded, therefore, from Selby to Snaith, and 
its adjacencies. In the earlier stage of the visit, April 
13th, he observes, "I am now at Goole. I have to 
preach every night ; and on the Sabbath-day I shall 
have to preach three times. You see, the Lord finds 
me work ; and as I love it, I have plenty of it. He 
gives me favour in the sight of the people. The places 
for preaching are too small for them : they flock like 
doves to their windows." He was here visited by a 
female, an old acquaintance, who once, with her hus- 
band, walked in the light of God's countenance, but had 
also, with him, retraced her steps to the world. Thro ? 
his preaching and conversation, they were again roused 
from the torpor of spirit which had seized them ; and to 
render their return to the church of God more secure, 
he entered the name of the female into his memoran- 
dum-book, in order that he might be able to give the 
superintendent of the circuit proper directions to find 
out such stray sheep, The woman, said he, " sprang 



204 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH, 

from a good stock. Her grandmother, Ruth Naylor, 
was a good mother, a good wife, and a good Christian. 
My creed is, that God will save to the third and fourth 
generation. This has been the case in my family, and 
in many a family : yes, and he will bless to a thousand 
generations. " 

While going from place to place, several other 
friendships were revived. At Svvinefleet he entered 
among the friends of Mr. Knight ; at another place he 
met with a ship-captain, a religious character, in whose 
vessel he had preached a sermon during his last visit to 
London ; and at a third place, out of the Snaith circuit, 
he had several interviews with his friend Mr. Thomp- 
son, of Armin. Amidst many pleasing remembrances, 
however, there was one connected with the early his- 
tory of Martha, which was the occasion of much painful 
feeling. "Yesterday," he observes, on writing home 
to her, "I preached at Garthorp, in Marsland, near the 
place where you lived when you were with J. H. The 
house you lived in is now pulled down, and a new one 
built. The chapel which I preached in is built over 
against it. The congregation was large ; and I took tea 
with the blacksmith. He knew you well ; but he is 
now going off: he has been in a dying state for the last 
twelve years. I assure you, I thought of your journey 
out of Lincolnshire ; I could scarcely ever get you out 
of my head ; — to think of your usage with that ungodly 
man ! But he has gone to his reward. I thought of 
your journey, when you could not keep your shoes on 
your feet ; but the roads are stoned, and very good now. 
I wish you were here, to see your old friends. I have 
heard you say, that the blacksmith's wife was very good 
to you, when you were ill. I saw the flag that parts 
the counties. But I will tell you more, if I am spared 
to get home." In addition to this, he had been inform- 
ed of some misunderstanding among some of the friends 
at Micklefield, which had warped their better feelings 
lowards each other. On this, he remarks, " I hope you 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH* 20& 

have got peace proclaimed, and all jarring buried. 1 
will say the funeral service over it, — c Earth to earth, 
dust to dust, ashes to ashes.' The sooner it is buried ? 
the better. Love cannot dwell where there is preju- 
dice and party spirit. — Give my love to all my neigh- 
bours and friends ; tell them I am happy, and in a good 
state of health." 

Armin, which was one of Samuel's favourite places^, 
in consequence of Mr. Thompson granting him perfect 
liberty to follow the bias of his own mind, often became 
the scene of strong religious excitement, and through 
that excitement, of permanent benefit to those w T ho were 
its subjects. Separate from domestic worship, morning 
and evening, Samuel had his prayer-meetings with the 
servants and neighbours. It was agreed one night in 
the course of one of his visits, between the servants and 
himself, that they should have a prayer-meeting early 
the next morning. Samuel was up, as usual, by four 
o'clock. On descending from his chamber to the 
kitchen, he found the windows closed, and no appear- 
ance of wakefulness among the inmates of the house* 
He returned to his chamber, and having prayed and 
sung alone — his morning hymn having in all probability 
reached the ears of the sleepers, he was soon joined by 
the group. But as they had not given him the meeting 
at the hour and place appointed, he insisted on their 
stopping with him in his room. This was not very well 
relished by some of the servants, who knew that Mrs. 
C, on a visit from London, slept in an adjoining cham- 
ber. But it was of no importance to Samuel, who very 
likely thought that the good lady would be as profitably 
engaged with them, as lying in bed, at an hour when 
the birds were beginning to wake into song, and heaven 
was alive to their melody. Samuel commenced the 
devotional exercise in good earnest ; they prayed — they 
sung — they met in band ; and Mrs. C. — for sleep was 
in vain, where there was only a partition between the 
rooms — was compelled to keep watch with the party 5 

T 



206 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

and, to render the noise at all supportable, had to join in 
the devotions of the morning as she lay on her couch. 

The evening was generally occupied in the same 
way. On one occasion, when Mr. Thompson and Mr* 
P., one of the preachers, went to Howden, to evening 
preaching, Samuel was left behind. On their return, 
they heard an unusual noise in the house ; and on open- 
ing the door, they found the servants and neighbours 
encircling him like a living wall of fire — every one 
breathing forth the spirit of devotion — SamueFs own 
lips touched with live coals from the altar — in all the 
glory of a revival. Mr. P. was for dismissing them, but 
Mr. Thompson, who knew both Samuel's weaknesses 
and his excellencies, interposed his authority, and re- 
quested him not to interfere, without at the same time 
appearing to give the meeting his own decided sanction. 
One man was so powerfully affected, that several per- 
sons were obliged to hold him ; and an old man, eighty 
years of age, was confirmed in his religious experience 
and principles, which Samuel — not having had a pre- 
vious knowledge of him — mistook for conversion. The 
missionary meeting succeeded this ; and Samuel being 
called upon to move or second a resolution, took occa- 
sion to give a detailed account of the principal circum- 
stances of the meeting the night before. Having, how- 
ever, omitted the case of the old man, and being re- 
minded of it by Mr. Thompson, he suddenly turned 
round upon him, and in a loud and sharp tone, with a 
good deal of fire in his eye, which shewed that a por- 
tion of his own spirit was infused into it, and as though 
he thought it " well to be angry" for the Lord, replied, 
" Heh, and you were none so well pleased with it 
either," — exciting the smile of the auditory. He sup- 
ported what he deemed opposition, or indifference, in a 
revival, with but an ill grace occasionally. Mr. P., 
who could not endure the noise in the prayer-meeting, 
was obliged to take up his cross in another way. He 
had Samuel for his bed-fellow one night ; and long be- 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH . 207 

fore " tired nature" had recruited herself with " balmy 
sleep," he had to struggle between slumber and song, 
at an early hour in the morning, till his mate, whose 
instrument was always in tune, had carolled a hymn 
composed of about ten verses, as he lay by his side. 

His eccentricities in a prayer-meeting were not always 
to be endured with gravity, While at Mr. Bell's, of 
Temple Hurst, a man was praying very devoutly for the 
conversion of his wife. Samuel knew that there were 
other pre-requisites besides prayer ; and supposing him 
to be a little defective in some of the milder qualities of 
the mind at home, stopped him, and turning round, as he 
-elevated himself, said, " Set a trap for her, man, and 
take care to bait it with faith and love," — settling in- 
stantly -down to his devotions as before, adding to the 
person, whose voice had been interrupted for the moment^ 
■" There, you may go on again." 

Any improper feefing, as manifested on the platform, 
towards Mr, Thompson, was quickly swallowed up in 
the finer flow of divine love, which pervaded his whole 
soul, and was let out on the most insignificent portions 
of the unintelligent creatures of God. Speaking to Mr. 
Thompson one day, on the subject of religious experi- 
ence, he said, u I had a field of wheat once ; the crows 
picked it, and scarcely left a single grain ; I felt some- 
thing rise within me, that said, ' I wish I had you all in 
a band?" then, looking at his friend, he continued, as 
if afraid of being suspected of indulging a disposition 
for cruelty, incompatible with what he deemed a high 
state of grace, — " But, mind ye, I was not sanctified 
then." 

While in this neighbourhood, he solicited subscriptions 
for the proposed chapel at Goole — preached to every 
society in thfe circuit— assisted in holding four mission- 
ary meetings — and was frequently entertained by respec- 
table families, who were not in membership with the 
Wesleyan body. The latter pressed him to repeat his 
#isits^ 



208 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

Samuel took a particular interest, as will have been 
perceived, in the welfare oPpersons of his own trade ; 
and an instance of usefulness may here be recorded, as 
given by a blacksmith in a religious assembly, when 
Samuel was remote from the sound of his voice. " I 
thank God," said he, " for what he has done for my 
soul. I lived long in open rebellion against him — sinning 
in the face of light and knowledge — and training up my 
children for the devil. My father, who was pious, 
reproved me, but I regarded him not. He entered my 
house once, while I was playing at cards with my chil- 
dren, and spoke to me on its impropriety* My passion 
rose, — I swore, — took hold of him, and turned him to 
the door. Samuel Hick came the next day to our place 
to preach ; and going round to invite the people, he came 
and pressed me to attend. He saw I was throng ; but 
to accomplish his purpose, said, * If you are fast, I will 
help you ;' nor would he leave me till I promised to 
attend preaching. Accordingly, I went ; and the Lord 
met me. All my sins were placed before me, and pressed 
me heavily. I cried aloud for mercy ; Samuel came 
and prayed with me ; I prayed for myself; and it was 
not long before the Lord blessed me with Christian 
liberty. He filled me with peace and joy through 
believing, and has preserved me in his ways to the pre- 
sent time." 

He left Snaith and its neighbourhood, about the end 
of April ; and after paying one of his " angel visits" at 
home, visited the York, Pocklington, and Tadcaster cir- 
cuits ; and three of the places in which he was unusually 
favoured with the divine blessing were Hessay, Acomb, 
and Moormonkton, at the latter of which, he observed, 
"They sang like angels." When at Hessay, in the 
month of November, having been from home sometime, 
he found himself, as usual, nearly drained of cash by his 
charities, one of the last of which consisted in contri- 
buting towards the purchase of a pig, for a poor woman, 
who had lost one by some accident or distemper. " She 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH, 209 

was sorely distressed," said he ; " for she had fed and 
brought it up, and could not buy another without the 
help of her friends. She was a good Christian ; and I 
gave her the most of what I had in my pocket." But 
his purse was soon replenished. His son-in-law, Mr. 
W., had occasion to be in the country ; and on finding 
that he was in the neighbourhood of York, sought him, 
-»ad found him in conversation with a friend in the street. 
Hiying his hand on his shoulder, Samuel turned round, 
and was surprised to find the face of a relation peering 
in his own. As Mr. W. was just passing through the 
city by coach to London, he could only propose a few 
brief questions, one of which was, " How does your 
pocket stand affected ?" to which Sarlf&el replied, " It is 
very low." Mr. W. knew the generosity of his nature ; 
and dipping deep into his own pocket, gave him a hand- 
ful of silver. Samuel considered this a providential 
supply, saying, " When I was nearly done with my 
money, the Lord sent my son to York, who gave me 
more. I want for neither meat, money., nor clothes ; and 
my peace flows like a river." At this period he often 
preached once a day in the course of the week, and two 
or three times on the Sabbath.* 

He had been employed in the course of this year too, 
in soliciting subscriptions for Rider Chapel, a village 
near Cawood, forming part of the Selby circuit. The 
summer, the autumn, and the beginning of 1829, were 
spent in different directions ; and wherever he was fol- 
lowed, the people bore a lively recollection of his visits. 
Traces of him were invariably found in the conversations 
of the friends ; his works and his walk left as distinct 
an impression upon the mind, as the print of the human 
foot to the eye, after a person has crossed the sand of 
the sea shore. 

Samuel was in York in the latter end of March, 1829 ; 

and the friends in Easingwold wishing him to pay them 

a visit, a farmer and his good wife, both of whom had 

been brought* to God some years before through his 

t2 



210 1HE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

instrumentality, when residing in the York circuit, were 
deputed to give him the meeting in the city, and to con- 
vey him to the place. He arrived at Easingwold on the 
4th of April, and was entertained chiefly at the house 
of Mr. William and Miss Mary Dixon. Being well 
acquainted with Mrs. Roadhouse, he deposited with her 
two pounds, saying, that he was afraid of losing i^ 
adding, with a smile, " I have cheated Matty out f 
this," Mr. R. had been his banker in the Snaith circuit, 
but having dealt the separate portions out to him with 
parsimony, from an impression that he gave indiscrimi- 
nately, he thus made a change. His liberality, however, 
was again put unde* an arrest ; and when he was pre. 
vented from giving the whole away, he went among the 
more opulent and begged that he might be made their 
almoner. One instance of unnecessary, though not 
inconsiderate bounty, occurred while here. He stepped 
into the house of a barber, and requested to be shaved. 
Enquiring of the man whether he had any other means 
of supporting his family, and being answered in the 
negative, Samuel put a shilling into his hand. This 
produced a grateful feeling, and the man, in Samuel's 
estimation, was prepared for any thing that might follow. 
He talked to him on the subject of religion, and then 
proposed prayer. The different members of the family 
were speedily on their knees, and the worshipping group 
were open for the inspection of the next customer that 
might turn in for the same operation that had been per- 
formed upon the officiating priest. A thousand persons 
might be found to part with their money in the same 
way, but a thousand persons of the same piety might be 
found, who, in the same place, and under the same cir. 
cumstances, could not have brought themselves to act 
thus, and might be justified in such conduct, without 
being disposed to enter a sentence of condemnation 
against Samuel. 

Of the affection and attention of the Rev. Messrs. 
Hoadhouse and Garbutt he spoke in grateful terms ; 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 211 

^nd, besides preaching, attended, in connexion with 
them, several missionary meetings. Descanting on a 
part of his labours, he remarked, in his own peculiar 
way : " I preached last night (April 24th) on the other 
side of Hambleton Hills ; and the Lord, and Mr. Road- 
house, and me, held a missionary meeting ;" denoting 
that the Divine Being was as signally present in the 
influence of his Spirit on the hearts of the people — and 
without whose presence all missionary meetings are 
vain to the persons assembled — as though he had been 
rendered visible to the eye. " It is a mountainous 
country," continued he, " but very pleasant. The peo- 
•came from all quarters — from hill and dale ; the chapel 
was crowded, and we had a good time. I never saw 
friends more kind." Here too, as at Snaith, in the bo- 
som of the mountains, he realized the truth of the pro- 
verb of the wise man, " As iron sharpeneth iron, so a 
man sharpeneth the countenance of his friend." Early 
recollections, such as extended to the days of childhood,, 
were revived. One person, in particular, he noticed ; 
and his joy was full, because of his meeting her on 
Christian ground* " I have found some of my own 
country friends here ; one of them, a woman, born at 
Aberford. Her maiden name was Barker ; she married 
Mr. Wilkinson's steward, who is now dead. Her eldest 
son and daughter have died very happy ; and, if I live 
till next week, I shall have to preach her funeral ser- 
mon." He then spoke of the joy he experienced : 
further stating his belief, that the Lord had " as surely 
sent" him " into the circuit, as he sent Jonah to preach 
to the Ninevites. He waters my soul with the dews of 
heaven." 

Hawnley was another of the places which Samuel 
visited, where he rendered himself amusingly popular, 
by waiting upon the clergyman of the parish, requesting 
him to " give them a speech at the missionary meet- 
ing." The reverend gentleman declining, Samuel tried 
him on another point. 



"212 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

Sam. " Will you please then, Sir, to give us a pound 
for the missions ?" 

Clerg. " That is too mueh ? and I have no silver upon 
me; but if you will give me silver for a note, I will give 
you half-a-crown." 

Sam. " Nay, give the note Sir ; it is a noble cause." 

Samuel's companion having a little more delicacy of 
feeling about him than himself, and perceiving that the 
pound was more than it was prudent to urge, offered, in 
order to relieve the clergyman from his importunity, to 
give him twenty shillings of silver. Samuel immedi- 
ately, in an altered tone, said — 

" Give the gentleman five shillings." 

Clerg. "That will not do." 

Sam. " Ten then, Sir." 

Clerg. " I will give youhalf-a-crown." 

Sam. " Not less than five shillings, if you please, 
Sir." 

The full change was given, and an apology was of- 
fered for Samuel, for whom it was fortunate an apologist 
was at hand. Samuel, on the other hand, dropped upon 
his knees in the room to improve the occasion, and 
prayed devoutly and fervently for the divine blessing 
upon the clergyman. Whether as a rebuke, by way of 
intimating that instruction was necessary, or as a token 
of respect — which at least was singular — the reverend 
gentleman sent one of his written sermons in the even- 
ing, accompanied with his regards, to Samuel's com- 
panion. 

Without placing the least dependence upon works, he 
toiled as though heaven were alone to be won by them. 
" If I had ten thousand bodies and souls," said he, " they 
should all be spent in the service of God." At Carlton, 
Sheriff Hutton, and several other places, the word of ex- 
hortation was made a blessing to the people. His use- 
fulness and popularity appeared to advance with his age. 
Persons who had heard of him were prompted by curi- 
osity to attend his public addresses, and those who had 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 213 

benefited by them followed him from place to place ; so 
that with the curious, the profited, and the stated hearers, 
the chapels were generally crowded. In addition to 
evening preaching, travelling, and visiting the sick, he 
attended three missionary meetings in one week — 
moving about, in the 70th year of his age, with the ap. 
parent vigour of youth, and with the fire of a new con. 
vert. At one of those meetings he met with the Rev. 
G. Marsden, from Bolton, who pressed him to take ano- 
ther journey into Lancashire, which he resolved to 
perform in the course of the year, should he be favoured 
with health and opportunity.* He exulted too in the 
prospect of meeting with his friend, Mr. Dawson, at a 
missionary meeting in the month of May. That month 
arrived ; but the 14th was a day to be remembered by 
Samuel and his friends. He was on his way from 
Easingwold to Hemsley Black Moor, to attend a mis. 
sionary meeting. When about three miles from Hemsley 
his horse took fright at a chaise upon which some white 
bags were suspended, enclosing some fighting cocks — 
wheeled round — and he fell off. " Though no bones," 
says Mr. Dawson, " were either broken or dislocated, 
yet the shock was felt through his whole frame. He 
nevertheless attended the meeting ; but soon found it 
necessary to leave, when he was taken to the house of 
a friend." The scene which followed would form a 
subject as suitable for the pencil of Wilkie as for the 
pen of a divine. Bleeding being deemed necessary, a 
medical gentleman was sent for ; but in consequence of 
absence, his place was supplied by one of his pupils. 
On his appearance, Samuel threw off his coat, and turned 
up his shift sleeve, as if about to enter on the business 

* The Editor was in company with Mr. Marsden, and there for 
the first time heard Samuel addiess a Missionary Meeting. He 
was listened to with great attention, and his address, though 
-exceedingly disjointed, produced great effect. When he lost his 
-" idea" he was not in the least discomposed, but at once proceeded 
to relate his experience until his " idea" returned, 



214 THi: VILLAGE 53LACKSMITH 

of the smithy. Had the arm been composed of wood, or 
belonged to some other person, he could not have mani- 
fested greater self-possession, promptitude, and apparent 
want of feeling. Stretching it out, — his hand meanwhile 
grasping the handle of a long brush, and pointing to the 
vein, " There, my lad, ?> said he, " strike there ;" having 
the phleme and the quadruped present in the mind, 
rather than the lancet and the human being. The youth, 
under the impression of fear, pricked the vein, but no 
blood appeared. " Try again," said Samuel. The 
experiment was again fruitlessly made. He instantly 
turned up the sleeve of the other arm, as if going to 
another job, or as if he intended to give additional 
strength to one at which he had just failed, and deter- 
minate^ pointing to the spot, said, " Try here, lad ; 
strike here, and see if thou canst get any thing." This 
experiment, with the exception of a few drops, was as 
ineffectual as those that preceded. The youth was 
overcome with fear, and withdrew. Fortunately for 
Samuel, the surgeon himself came, about an hour after- 
wards, and bled him copiously, after which he was placed 
in a bed. While bleeding, he said, " Glory be to God, 
if I die, I'll get the sooner to Heaven." In the course of 
the same evening, while Mr. Dawson was preaching, 
the vein was opened by some accident, when Mrs. 
Bentley, who was at chapel, and at whose house he 
lodged, was sent for, and through her kind attentions 
aid was procured and the arm again bandaged. Samuel 
thought his work was done, and said to the friends 
around him, in a tone of holy triumph, " I am bown 
home ; glory be to God ! I am bown home." He ex. 
pressed a wish to see Mr. Dawson againj^who had 
called upon him before, and who no sotmer closed the 
service in the evening than he made all possible speed 
to his lodging. On entering the room, Samuel accosted 
him, with a full flow of spirit and of tears— " I am bown 
home, barn ! Glory be to God, I am very happy ! I 
should have bled to death, barn, but I happened to awa* 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH, 215 

ken." He next proceeded, " I want my will made, and 
you must make it." Mr. D., not deeming him so near 
his exit as he imagined, and adapting his language and 
imagery to Samuel's thinkings and knowledge of words, 
answered, " Well, Sammy, if it is to be so, you are a 
brown shelter ; referring by that, as Samuel well knew, 
to the ripe fruit — brown, and ready to drop from the tree r 
and which, when taken into the hand, falls out of the 
husk. He was acquainted with Samuel's character, and 
beheld him as ripe and ready for a blessed immortality. 
" Yes," replied Samuel, " I am bown to glory." The 
will was drawn up according to the best directions he 
was able to give ; but, as Martha was both cashier and 
accomptant, he knew very little of his own affairs, and of 
course found it necessary afterwards to have it altered. 
He met with his accident on the Thursday, and on the 
Saturday was so far restored as to be able to return to 
Easingwold in a gig. The friends at Easingwold know- 
ing that the beginning of the week was the period fixed 
for his return to Micklefield, proposed that he should 
preach to them on the Sunday, — accompanying the pro- 
posal with a hope that it would not seriously injure him y 
while employing every argument to accomplish their 
wishes, at the risk of his health and life.* He received 
the proposition with his wonted cheerfulness — preached 



* This, to say the least, was inconsiderate, being only the day 
after he had been shaken a good deal by his removal from Hems- 
ley ; and were it not for others than the friends at Easingwold — 
to whom the following remarks are not intended to apply beyond 
the point of inconsideration just noticed, further observations 
would ha?e been withheld. What between conscience on the part 
of the preachers, and thoughtlessness on the part of the people, — 
a willingness to expend the utmost of their strength in the cause 
of God in the one, and anxiety for them to be useful, founded on 
the value of immortal souls, in the other, the men very often 
become martyrs in the work. The people are especially culpable 
in urging a willing servant of God to work, in cases of great 
debility ; and instances have been known, when, instead of pre^. 
venting men from running the most imminent danger of relapse, 



216 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

on the Sabbath evening — assisted in conducting a prayer- 
meeting on the Monday evening — and proceeded ta 
York in a gig on the Tmsday morning. Reduced as he 
was in his bodily strength, such was the unconquerable 
nature of the spirit he possessed, aided by the prospect* 
of a better world, that he appeared more like a person 
who had just risen from slight indisposition, rather than 
as having walked a few paces back into life again from 
the verge of the grave. 

or something worse, those very men have been tortured in every 
possible way by reasons, why the pulpit should not be supplied; — 
the tormentors themselves sitting like philosophers all the time, 
as if coolly making experiments upon human nature, to see the 
utmost point to which it would go, then returning with the 
languishing sufferer, administering their hopes, like cordials, that, 
— after they have wrung from him the last mite of physical 
strength, he will be no worse, but improved — by thus throwing 
the fever into his system, with a night's sound repose. Such con- 
duct, if practised in civil life, would be viewed in no other light, 
than as the result of mere brutal feeling. The only difference 
between an ungodly man overworking his servants, like a set of 
West Indian slaves, and persons who are criminal in the case in 
hand — and to no other the subject can be applied, is, that the 
former are driven, and the latter are dogged to it, through indis- 
creet zeal — incorrect notions of duty — sympathy for the multi- 
tude, with a kind of callous feeling towards the individual. Per- 
sons should be exceedingly careful not even to lay temptations in 
the way of zealous, but afflicted men, to take too early the exer- 
cise of tho pulpit. A man of God has that within him, which 
will not allow him to remain inactive longer than what is neces- 
sary. In such cases, the people should stand between the couch 
and the pulpit, and employ the check rather than the incentive. 
It is a hard case, when a man is under the necessity of killing 
himself to prove that he is poorly: and the worst is, that there is 
neither any conscience made of the matter, on the part of these 
overworkers, nor any tribunal at which to try them for their con- 
duct. They go free, though the man of God may lose his life. 
He is afraid of their uncandid reflections, if he do not work ; 
though without reasonable and serious reflection themselves ; and 
to crown the whole, as it is done under the guise, so it is laid to 
the charge of Christianity. A man may, perchance, survive it; 
but no thanks to the taskmasters for the pain imparted, any more 
than for the life next to miraculously preserved. 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 217 

He complained of great internal pain at first ; and 
although it pleased the Lord to raise him again from his 
couch, and permit him to engage in his usual labour of 
love, he was more susceptible of cold, while his friends 
perceived an evident decay both of memory and of cor- 
poreal strength. 

Having preached in his own neighbourhood a short 
time, he left home for Lancashire in the early part of 
July. His route appears to have been the following : — 
He remained two days at Swillington Bridge, in conse- 
quence of the rain, and spoke of the kindness of Mr. 
Gilgras. From thence he proceeded to Wakefield, where 
he preached, and at which place he had often experienced 
the kindness of S. Stocks, Esq., and other friends. 
Barnsley was his next place ; prior to reaching which 
he spent two days with Mr. Myers, who quaintly told 
him he was not to think of " making a road over his 
house." When he arrived at Barnsley, the friends pre- 
vailed upon him to remain until their missionary meeting. 
While in that neighbourhood, he preached at Burton and 
Cudvvorth. This was no new ground of labour to him; 
and at the latter place particularly, he was rendered 
extremely serviceable to Mr. G., who afterwards became 
an useful local preacher, but was in a state of mind 
verging towards despair, when met by Samuel. They 
slept in the same room, and every groan fetched up from 
the soul of the one, was the signal for prayer to the other : 
nor was it an ejaculation with Samuel, uttered in a state 
of repose upon the pillow, which cost him nothing ; for 
he arose again and again, and wrestled with God, like 
Jacob, both in the dark and at day-break. He gave 
himself no rest, till rest was found by him who sought 
it. He had here an excellent coadjutor in the genera! 
work, in William Smith, — a man of a very differently 
constructed mind, but in no respect his inferior for sim- 
plicity, zeal, and disinterestedness. 

He remained some time also, at the house of John 
Thornelevj Esq., Docl worth Green, near Barnsley, and. 

U 



218 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

was the minister of mercy to a number of poor families 
in the village of Dodworth. Here, as in other places, 
in seasons of distress, his funds — though often replenished 
by Mr. T. and others, were as often drained of the last 
mite. Cases of distress multiplying upon him, as is 
usual with those who take the trouble to seek after them, 
and having received supplies from his own friends, he 
enquired, as he had done at Burnley on a former occa- 
sion, whether there were not some opulent characters 
in the neighbourhood, who might be willing to contribute 
of their abundance towards the relief of the poor? He 
was told of one gentleman, by his friend, William 
Rhodes, but received only such hopes of success as 
unbelief could afford. Faith, in Samuel, could perceive 
no obstacles ; he proceeded, therefore, to Mr. C.'s resi- 
dence, and found him ; and knowing less of circumlocu- 
tion than the legal gentleman himself, entered directly 
upon the case. Mr. C, either to get rid of him, or 
being touched in a way which was as rare to himself as 
it was astonishing to others, took from his pocket a hand- 
ful of silver, and gave it, — feeling like a person, on 
Samuel's departure, who, in an unguarded moment, had 
suffered himself to be imposed upon, and wondering at 
his folly for having been so far overseen on the occasion. 
But the truth is, there was so much of God, of justice, 
of humanity, and of mercy, in all Samuel's applications, 
that they carried with them the authority of a command, 
and became unaccountably irresistable to the persons to 
whom they were made. 

While he was at Dodworth Green, his respected friend, 
Edward Brooke, Esq., of Hoyland Swaine, sent his ser- 
vant and gig for him. On seeing the conveyance, the 
tear started into his eye, and turning to Mrs. Thorneley,* 

* This excellent lady, who knew how to estimate Samuel's 
piety and labours, has since been called to her eternal reward. 
The writer does not proceed beyond his personal knowledge, 
when he states that Mrs. T. was modest — retired — intelligent — 
liberal to the poor — hospitable, without parade — a perfect model 



T^IE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 219 

he falteringly observed, "He will kill me." The zeal 
of Mr. B. was too much for Samuel's years; and such 
an expression, from such a man — -one who counted not 
his life dear to him in the cause of God, must have heen 
wrung from him in the agonizing reflection of past suf- 
fering. Of this, however, Mr. B. was not aware ; and 
with iiis wonted kindness, furnished him with a new suit 
of clothes. After labouring here a few weeks, he pro- 
ceeded to Bolton, where he was on the 10th of August ; 
and had it not been for this Lancashire tour, he would 
have proceeded into Derbyshire, for which Mr. Thorne- 
ley had made every preparation, in order that he might 
be rendered beneficial to the men employed in working 
his coal mines. 

Not content with preaching in the chapels, he took his 
stand in the streets, and proclaimed (he Saviour of sin- 
ners to the multitude. Taylor and Carlile had just been 
there, and had engaged the attention of a few of " the 
baser sort," who had become venders of their blasphemy. 
One of these attacked Samuel, while he was addressing 
the people in the street ; and Samuel possessing greater 
confidence in the truth of God, than ability to defend it, 
imprudently committed himself, by telling the man, that 
if he would suffer him to proceed without interruption to 
the close of the service, he would go into any private 
house with him, or with any number of the same persua- 
sion, if there w r ere a hundred of them, and he would take 
them one by one and conquer them. But the man was 
desirous of public conquest ; and in the lowest slang of 
the two infidel missionaries, so famous for stooping and 
raking up from the very depths of the common sewers of 
infidelity, all the filth of which a depraved-heart is capable 
of conceiving, told Samuel that the Saviour he preached 
was a thief,— that he could prove from the Bible itself lie 

of domestic order and happiness, without hustle — a groat sufferer, 
hut with the invincible patience and fortitudo of a roortyr — 
crowning the whole with the most exalted Christian spirit and 
demeanor. 



220 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH* 

i 

stole an ass from one person, and corn out of the field of 
another. Samuel immediately rebutted the charge, by 
insisting, that, as the Creator of a4l things, the earth, the 
corn, and the cattle upon a thousand hills, were his ; that, 
he only laid claim to his own property. This was as 
good a reply as the low, ignorant attack merited. The 
man was prevented from making further disturbance, and 
Samuel was dissuaded from giving him the meeting. It 
was a heavy affliction, however, to his mind. He 
returned repeatedly to the subject, and felt all his sensi- 
bilities in operation for the honour of his Saviour. " I 
have heard of my dear Lord," said he to some of the 
friends, in his conversation afterwards, " being called a 
wine-bibber, a gluttonous man, and a friend to publicans 
and sinners ; but I never heard him called a thief and a 
robber bofore, though crucified between two." Then he 
would sob and weep over the charge, as though he wished 
to sympathize with his Divine Master, while lying, as he 
supposed, under this odium. 

While at Bolton, he received a letter from Grassing- 
ton, near Skipton, stating that a niece of his was very ill 
—not likely to recover — and wished to see him. He no 
sooner was informed of this, than he took the coach for 
Skipton. The day was exceedingly wet ; and he being 
on the outside, his clothes were drenched with rain. He 
arrived a few clays before his niece died, but received 
his own death-stroke by the journey ; for he caught cold, 
which settled upon his lungs, and from which he never 
fully recovered. In a letter to his partner, dated Sep- 
tember 10th, he remarked, " I have been very ill since 
I came here. I was taken with a stoppage in my breath- 
ing since midnight. If I had not have got bled, I believe 
I should not have been writing to you just now ; but as 
soon as the doctor bled me, I found instant relief. I was 
very happy, and found that God was the God of my sal- 
vation." In speaking of his niece, he said, " We are 
waiting for a convoy of angels, and are expecting them 
every day, to carry her soul to the regions of eternal 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 221 

glory, where there is day without night, pleasure with- 
out pain, and where eternity shall seem as a clay. She 
has obtained a title and a preparation for her heavenly 

inheritance. She has oil in her vessel, and has on the 
wedding garment. The Lord has taken a vast deal of 
pains with her. but he has proved the conqueror. She 
can give up all ; and when this is the case, we receive 
all. It takes a great deal of grace to say, ' Thy will be 
done.' My son-in-law, Wrath all, wishes me to stop with 
her till she finishes her course. Mr. Knight's family 
being ill, he is obliged to return to London." 

It was during one of his Lancashire journies, that he 
was on the outside of one of the stage coaches, as on the 
occasion of his going to Grassington, in one of the 
heaviest falls of rain to which he had ever been exposed : 
u And aye, barn" said he to a friend, as though a Lan- 
cashire shower had something peculiar in it — " aye, barn, 
when it rains there, it does rain ! the hills look white with 
it, as it dashes down the sides. 5 ' His heart, as on other 
occasions, was in the right place. A young woman sat 
next him, who was much annoyed, being but ill prepared 
to resist the downward force of the torrent. He looked 
at her ; and while pitying her, he felt happy in his soul, 
audibly blessing the Lord for all his mercies. Whenever 
his female companion complained, he as quickly hitched 
in a pious sentiment, exclaiming on one occasion — " Bless 
the Lord! it is not a shower of fire and brimstone from 
heaven." This sentence took effect ; it was like a nail 
fastened in a sure place ; she bacame thoughtful ; and he 
had the happiness to learn, that, in consequence of his 
behaviour and conversation, she became a steady convert 
to Christianity. 

He preached twice during the Sabbath, while here, at 
Grassington and Hebden. Having written to his daugh- 
ter Ann in London, and home to Martha, but receiving 
no answer, he was rather anxious. " Whether," said he 
to the latter, " you do not think it worth your while to 
write, or whether you are too busy, I cannot tell : but I 

u2 



222 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

am sure> if [had sent word that you had a legacy of a 
hundred pounds left you, I should have had a few lines 
before now, to know where and when you were to receive 
it." Yet he strove to excuse her because of the harvest* 
" Many a time," continued he, " I have set my face over 
the brown mountains towards Mickle field. I have seen 
you in mind in the harvest field, cutting down the corn* 
If I had wings like a dove I would fly to you, and look 
at you. We have had a great deal of rain here, almost 
every day, except last week. When I saw the clouds 
burst against the mountains, I thought it would stop the 
rain from reaching you. If you have had as much rain 
as us, you have had a very wet harvest. But I hope you 
have got the most of it in, and are shouting ' Harvest 
home.' " 

Samuel soon added, " Ten minutes past five, our 
niece departed this life. She died in the Lord : and 
blessed are the dead that die in the Lord. May you 
and I be found ready, when the message comes !" Mr. 
W., who appears to have remained at Grassington till 
the solemn event took place,— having been more sudden 
than expected — observed in the same letter, " Father 
will be at home, if all is well, about Monday." 

On his return home, " he was only able," says Mr. 
Dawson, " to preach a few times, and attend two mis- 
sionary meetings, one at East Keswick, in the Tadcas- 
ter, and another at Garforth, in the Leeds East circuit. 
He now began to sink fast, though not confined to bed 
till a short time before he died." About a month be- 
fore he quitted this transitory state, he said to his 
friends, "lam going home ;" and then informed them 
of some arrangements he had made for the improve- 
ment of his death. In these he had only the good of 
his fellow-creatures in view ; and through the whole of 
them the same distinctiveness of character, the same 
simplicity, the same benevolence, the same peculiari- 
ties, which marked his previous life, were conspicuous, 
— some of them, to those who knew him not, bearing 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 223 

the stamp of ostentation, yet perfectly remote from it, — 
an increasingly sweet, meek, hallowed feeling pervaded 
every word, look, and act, alike expressive of the mel- 
lowing influences of the Holy Ghost upon his soul, thus 
checking the lighter feelings of the visitant, who might 
be tempted to obtrude, — the visitant himself feeling that 
the being before whom he stood had the consecrating 
hand of God upon him, — that death was hovering over 
the ground which supported him, — and that through 
that same being, he was brought to the immediate con. 
fines of an eternal world, ready to open and receive 
him in any moment of time. 

With the exception of a desire to have his will alter- 
ed, he appeared to have no other wish of importance to 
gratify ; and even in this he was preserved in " perfect 
peace," Mr. Dawson visited him on the Wednesday 
before his death, and attended to some of his last re- 
quests relative to his will, and other affairs. Martha 
occupied her accustomed chair, when he entered the 
house, fast approaching to her 80th year, with her 
glasses on, and a voice less feminine than that of most 
of the softer sex. She received him as the friend of 
her husband, who was in an upper chamber ; and altho' 
he was so ill the night before, that it was uncertain 
whether he would see the returning day, he no sooner 
heard the voice of Mr. D., than his spirit revived within 
him, like that of old Jacob ; and gathering up his feet, 
he in effect said, "I will go and see him before I die." 
He was quickly on the ground floor, and took his chair 
in the corner by the side of Martha. He told Mr. D. 
that he wished to have his will altered. This was soon 
done, as his effects were not large, owing to his chari- 
ties, his gifts to his children, and the property of which 
he had been deprived. He further observed, that he 
wished to be buried at Aberford, — that his friend Simp- 
son was to bake a sack of meal into bread, — and that 
two cheeses were to be purchased. Mr. D., who was 
scarcely prepared for the reception of the two last 



224 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

items, wished to know the reason of such preparation, 
when Samuel replied, " There will be a thousand peo- 
ple at my funeral. As soon as I am gone, you must 
advertise it in the Leeds papers, and my friends will all 
come." Mr. D. very properly but affectionately re- 
monstrated with him, suggesting to him the probable 
cost, the propriety of persons not specially invited pro- 
viding for themselves, and the serious effect it would 
have upon the little he had to leave. " That's raight" 
responded Martha, who heard what was said ; " per- 
suade him off it." Samuel, who still retained his an- 
cient spirit, exclaimed, with the tear starting in his eye, 
46 Expense, barn! I never was a miser while I lived, 
and I should not like to die one." Being again pressed 
to dismiss the subject from his mind, he said, " When 
the multitudes came to our Lord, he could not think of 
them fainting by the way." He reminded Mr. Dawson 
*)f the text (Isaiah xlviii. 18,) which he had previously 
told him to select, from which to improve the occasion 
of his death. On Mr. D. leaving the house, Martha 
being too infirm to accompany him, sent her voice 
across the room, and said, in allusion to the funeral 
sermon, just as he stood in the door way, " See that 
de'nt set him te heigh" This was in true character. 
She knew Mr, D.'s high opinion of Samuel ; and 
although she dearly loved her husband, yet her stern 
sense of justice, and her jealousy for the honour of God, 
led her to give what she deemed a timely caution. On 
a friend visiting him, and employing in prayer the com- 
mon expression, " Make his bed in affliction," — " Yes," 
responded Samuel, with promptitude and energy, a and 
$hak it weel, Lord !" 

His thoughts were now solely directed to his " de- 
parture," and he gave directions to one of the persons 
that attended him to take the dimensions of a closet on 
the ground floor, in order to ascertain whether it was 
sufficiently large to admit the full length of his body 
after his decease. This being done, he said, " As s^?* 1 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 225 

as I die, you must take the body down and lay it out ; 
for you will not be able to get the coffin either down 
stairs, or out at the window." 

Two young men, members of the Pontefract Wesley, 
an Society, watched with him during the last night of 
his life ; and from one of these, — Mr. James Foster, 
some interesting particulars have been communicated. 
"While I was in London," said he to them, " Dr. C. 
encouraged me to preach full sanctincation, and I will 
do so. It shall be done : faith laughs at impossibilities, 
and cries — It shall be done. Sing, joys, sing." In 
compliance with this request, they sung the well-known 
doxology, composed by Bishop Kenn, 

" Praise God from whom all blessings flow ;" 

a hymn which will never cease to be heard in heaven 
by warbling millions of redeemed intelligences from 
earth — its strains no sooner dropping by one individual, 
or one part of the militant church, than resumed by 
another — the continuous song flowing on, till the last 
saint of God shall wing his way from time to eternity. 
On one of the young men asking him whether he had 
any wish to be restored so far as to be able to preach 
again, he replied, "No;" then added, 4 Mf it would 
glorify God, and do good to souls, I should be willing." 
In the course of the night, he repeatedly exclaimed, 
"Glory, glory, glory!" then in an extacy broke out, — 
"I shall see him for myself, and not for another. The 
Lord has wrought a miracle for me. He can — I know 
he can — I cannot dispute it. Christ in me the hope of 
glory. I am like the miser; the more I have, the more 
I want." His ear, like his heart, seemed only tuned for 
heavenly sounds. " Sing the hymn," said he, 

'* Who are these arrayed in white, 
Brighter than the noon-day sun, 
Foremost of the sons of light ; 
Nearest the eternal throne ?" 



226 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

during the whole of which, he continued to wave his 
hand in triumph. Then again, with untiring persever- 
ance in the exercise of praise, 

" My Jesus to know, and feel his blood flow, 
'Tis life everlasting, 'tis heaven below." 

The hymn being finished, he said, " Blessed Jesus ! this 
cheers my spirits." It was said to him, " You will soon 
be among the dead, Samuel." " No doubt about that," 
he replied ; " but I am ready to be offered up — glory be 
to the Lamb ! Some of the friends in London told me, 
that I did not know how to pray ; but I know better than 
that — glory — glory — glory ! Mercy of mercies ! Lord, 
save me !" He was again asked, " What must we say 
to your friends, who enquire after you?" "Tell them, 
joy, that I have all packed up — that I am still in the old 
ship, with my anchor cast within the veil — and that my 
sails are up, filled with a heavenly breeze. In a short 
time, I shall be launched into the heavenly ocean." A 
mariner, and even some landsmen, might be able to dis- 
cover a confusion of metaphor here ; but the Christian 
can look through all this, and can perceive a soul in 
readiness for a state of endless felicity. 

A heavenly smile played upon his countenance, and 
the joy he experienced gave a vivacity to his eye, 
which scarcely comported with the general debility of 
his system. Prayer occupied some of the short inter- 
vals between hymns ; and such was the influence of 
God upon every exercise, that it seemed as though 
other tones were heard than those from mortal lips, and 
the room itself was "the gate of heaven." One of the 
persons who attended him, observed, " I have spent 
whole nights in reading and prayer : but the night spent 
by the bed-side of Samuel Hick, exceeded them all." 

In the afternoon of the day on which he died, some 
of his friends came from Sherburn to see him. Unable 
audibly to pray with them himself, he requested them to 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 227 

pray, and with great feebleness gave out the first verse 
of one of his favourite hymns, 

11 I'll praise my Maker while I've breath; 
And when my voice is lost in death, 

Praise shall employ my nobler powers." 

To a neighbour, he observed with unusual solemnity, 
" I have as much religion as will take me to heaven ;" 
then pausing a few seconds; " but I have none for 
Matty;" adding, with another pause, " and none for the 
children." This is the key which unlocks the secret of 
his real feelings, and shews that there was no thought 
of funeral parade in what he had previously observed, — 
nothing beyond a wish that his remains might admonish 
the living on the subject of mortality. He found that 
he had nothing of which to boast — no more religion 
than was barely necessary — and wished to impress 
upon those around, the importance of personal piety. 
Some of his last words were, " Peace, joy, and love." 
As evening drew on, his speech began to falter; yet 
every sentence uttered by those around appeared to be 
understood ; and when that hymn was sung, 

" Ye virgin souls arise," &c. 

he entered into the spirit of it ; especially when the 
friends came to, 

"The everlasting doors 

Shall soon the saints receive, 
Above yon angel powers 

In glorious joy to live ; 
Far from a world of grief and sin, 
With God eternally shut in ;" — 

at the enunciation of the first line of which verse, he 
lifted his dying hand, and waved it round till it fell by 
his side ; still feebly raising and turning round his fore- 
finger, as the arm was stretched on the bed, betokening 
his triumph over the " last enemy," and shewing to 
those who were with him, that he was — to use language 



228 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

previously employed by him — going " full sail towards 
the harbour," and had an entrance ministered to him 
"abundantly into the everlasting kingdom of our Lord 
and Saviour Jesus Christ." Just at the moment that 
the vital spark, which had been some time twinkling in 
its socket, was emitting its last ray, he opened his eyes, 
and feebly articulated, "I am going; get the sheets 
ready ;" and died. This was about eleven o'clock, on 
Monday night, November 9th, 1829, in the 71st year of 
his age.* 

On the day of interment, which was the succeeding 
Sabbath, such was the sympathy excited in the neigh- 
bourhood, that the people for some miles round, unin- 
vited, attended the funeral. " Some hundreds," says 
Mr. Dawson, " went to Micklefield, which is about two 
miles from Aberford. The funeral procession swelled 
as it proceeded ; and when all met at Aberford, it was 
computed, on a moderate calculation, that not less than 
a thousand persons were assembled together." This 
rendered Samuel's "thousand" almost prophetic, and 
in the dark ages would have won for him the character 
of a seer. Without any pretension to such gifts, the 
fact itself of such an extraordinary concourse of people 
in a comparatively thinly populated district, affords an 
eminent instance of public opinion in favour of integrity, 
usefulness, and unassuming worth. Mr. D. adds, " Had 
not the day been rather wet, and the roads very dirty in 
consequence of it, it is probable many more would have 
been there. The church was crowded, and scores 
could not obtain admission. The worthy vicar would 
not permit his curate to read the service, but went 
through it himself, as a mark of the respect he bore to 
the deceased, and was much pleased with the excellen- 

* The age here specified, is that which was on the breastplate 
of the coffin. His brother, it may be proper to notice, is of opinion 
that he was two years older than there stated. The writer not 
having had an opportunity to consult the Register, is unable to 
decide between the dates. 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH, 229 

cy of the singing. It was truly affecting to see the 
crowd press to the grave, to take their last look of the 
coffin that enclosed his mortal remains. They gazed 
awhile ;— they turned aside, and wept, exclaiming, ' If 
ever there was a good man, Sammy Hick was one.' " 
Mr. D. might have added, that the infirm and aged, 
who were unable to follow the corpse, appeared in the 
door-stead of their houses, wiping away the tears as the 
procession passed ; and that, pleased as the clergyman 
was with the singing, the tear was seen glistening in his 
eye in the course of the service. 

His death was improved the Sabbath following, by Mr. 
Dawson, who took the text, which, as noticed, Samuel 
had selected. The chapel was incabable of containing 
one half of the people that assembled ; and though there 
had been a considerable fall of snow in the course of the 
forenoon, the preacher and congregation were under the 
necessity of worshipping in the open air. Such was the 
anxious solicitude of the people to pay respect to his 
memory, that no less than nine additional funeral ser- 
mons were preached, in different parts of the Tadcasteir 
circuit, besides others in those of Selby and Pontefract ; 
and some of the simple-hearted were heard to say, " I 
love heaven the better, because of Sammy Hick being 
there." 



CONCLUSION OF THE MEMOIR. 

1. In Samuel Hick we are presented with an additional 
exemplification of the numerous facts which go to sup- 
port an argument pursued in a small, but interesting tract, 
entitled, ri Great Effects from Little Causes. " It 
is there shown, that every man, woman, and child can 
do something — can do much; that we cannot stir, with- 
out touching some string that will vibrate after our heads 
are laid in the dust ; that one word of pious counsel, 
uttered in the hearing of a child, may produce an effect 

W 



230 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 

upon children's children whose influence may be felt on 
the other side of the globe, and may extend to eternity ; 
and that it is not improbable that eternity will disclose to 
us, how the astonishing events of this age sprung at first 
from the closet of some obscure saint, like Simeon and 
Hannah of old, " praying to God alway, and waiting for 
the consolation of Israel. " What has resulted from the 
labours of Samuel Hick, emphatically one of " the weak 
things of the world," is beyond the power of any one, 
except an Infinite Intelligence, to calculate. He set 
many a human being in motion for heaven, and accele- 
rated the march of others. 

2. The admirable economy of Methodism is unfolded, 
in accommodating itself to the bestowments of God to 
his creatures, whether he confers upon the individual the 
lesser or the more exalted intellectual endowments, — 
and the designs of that God in holding every talent in 
requisition for the general good of mankind. No dis- 
paragement is intended to other Christian communities, 
by stating that the Established Church, the Calvinists, 
the Baptists, the Society of Friends, could riot, agreeably 
to their economy, have found employment for such a man 
as was Samuel Hick. They would have been at a loss to 
know what to do with him ; and would have been ashamed 
of him as a preacher, however they might have borne 
with him as a Christian. But Methodism, while she lays 
her hands upon the pounds, has never disdained to stoop 
to the pence ; and it is in the pence — the pence, in more 
senses than the metaphorical one intended — that she 
finds her strength, " Gather up the fragments that remain, 
that nothing be lost, 5 ' will apply in a thousand cases, 
beside the one which called forth the remark from the 
Son of God. 



THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. 231 



POSTSCRIPT. 



In the month of January, 1832, just as some of the 
last sheets of the third edition of the Memoir of her 
departed husband were passing through the press, Martha 
was summoned into the presence of the Lord. With all 
the prudence and care which characterized her proceed- 
ings, a proper occasion, as will have been perceived, was 
all that was necessary to draw out the truly noble and 
independent spirit which she possessed, and of the credit 
of which she had been deprived from the heedless 
exuberance of her husband's givings. The profits of 
the first edition of this volume were sacredly set apart 
for her benefit ; and when Mr. Dawson presented her 
with the first-fruits, he was accosted by her, with, — " I 
cannot think of taking any thing, till I know that Mr. 

— shall suffer no loss by it ;" and it was not till 

she was satisfied on this point, that she could be induced 
to accept the offering. Her faculties were greatly 
impaired before she died ; but she left the world, if not 
with Samuel's triumph, in Christian peace, 



ANCIENT AND MODERN REVIVALS. 233 



[In several parts of the foregoing Memoir allusion has been 
made to the religious excitement produced by the labours of 
Samuel Hick. Objections to the genuineness of religions 
revivals have been frequently made in this, as well as other 
countries, on the ground of their being sometimes accompa* 
nied with real or seeming extravagancies. The following 
remarks on the subject were written by the Biographer some 
years ago, in reply to an attack made upon the Wesleyan 
body in the " British Critic." They were appended by him to 
this Memoir, and their excellence will be a sufficient apology 
for their introduction here.— C. Ed.] 



The order of God, and the confusion 
of man, viewed in connexion with religious 
assemblies. 



On the visit of the Apostles to Ephesus, " the whol© 
city was filled with confusion. Some therefore cried 
one thing, and some another : for the assembly was 
confused ; and the more part knew not wherefore they 
were come together."* Similar effects have followed in 
every age, and in almost every city, town, and village, 
since that period, on any extraordinary work of God, 
in the awakening and conversion of sinners. The still- 
ness and serenity of the midnight hour seemed to en- 
wrap the slumbering citizens, till Paul, " rinding certain 
disciples" who had only been baptized " unto John ? s 
baptism," and who, like many moderns — whatever they 
may have " heard" — have not known " whether there 

* Acts xix. 29-32. 
w2 



234 ANCIENT AND MODERN REVIVALS. 

be any Holy Ghost," " laid his hands upon them," and 
preached in their hearing the faith of Christ. j* No 
sooner could it be affirmed, that " the Holy Ghost 
came on them" — that " they spake with tongues and 
prophesied" — and that Paul " went into the synagogue 
and spake boldly,-— disputing and persuading the things 
concerning the kingdom of God" — than " divers were 
burdened, and believed not, but spake evil of that way 
before the multitude. "| Among the worst of these 
were, " certain of the vagabond Jews," whose repre- 
sentatives in the present day are to be found in the 
lower ranks of society, among the vicious and unin- 
structed.f When the Lord, however, began to make 
bare his arm in judgment as well as in mercy, " fear 
fell on them all, and the name of the Lord Jesus was 
*nagnified.":j: But among those who were alarmed, 
there were only a certain number that " believed" — 
4i confessed" — " shewed their deeds" — and " burned" 
their " books," by which they had "used curious arts."§ 
Up to this period, the opposition was a good deal con- 
fined to the vulgar, as Christianity laid the axe to the 
root of their vices. But when " mightily grew the word 
of God and prevailed," affecting the established religion 
of the place, to which the secular interests of many of 
the worshippers were linked, it was then that the higher 
orders of society considered themselves justified in sup- 
porting the virulence of persecution. " Demetrius, a 
silversmith," who " made silver shrines for Diana" — 
a business that " brought no small gain unto the crafts- 
men," led the way. Noble and ignoble being now en- 
gaged — the one in support of their vices, and the other 
of their gains, " the whole city was filled with confu. 
sion." It is a remarkable fact, however, that the con- 
fusion belonged not to the disciples and brethren, but to 
the mob. To the latter, also, was the conflict of opinion 

* Acts xix. 2-6. t Vet. 6-9. t Ver. 13. § Vcr. 16-17. 
II Ver. 17-19. 



ANCIENT AND MODERN REVIVALS. 235 

to be charged, some crying " one thing, and some 
another ;" — and that to them, finally, was the most 
profound ignorance to be attributed, since " the more 
part knew not wherefore they were come together."* 

" Noisy Meetings,"' so called, in modern times, are 
religious assemblies which have been generally distin- 
guished for sudden awakenings and conversions. Some 
writers of respectability, under an impression possibly 
that such meetings are discreditable to Christianity, 
have laboured to remove the noise, as an effect, by re- 
ferring the cause — sudden conversion — to apostolic times, 
and by representing such change as the result of mi- 
racle, in order to confine it to the first age of the Chris- 
tian Church ; arguing, from the cessation of the one, 
the absurdity of the other. Among those who are de- 
sirous of referring every thing " quick and powerful" to 
primitive days, Dr. Mant takes a distinguished stand. 
His language is, " Where the conversion was sudden 
or instantaneous, it was the consequence of miraculous 
evidence to the truth. When the preaching of Peter 
on the day of Pentecost added to the Church 3000 
souls, they were men who had been amazed and con- 
founded by the effusion of the Holy Ghost, and the su- 
pernatural gift of tongues." Had the learned prelate 
paid proper attention to the subject, he would not have 
selected this portion of Scripture History for the estab- 
lishment of his non- experience theory ; for it appears — 

1. That the apostles and brethren, who were all mem- 
bers of the Christian Church, about one hundred and 
twenty in number, were assembled in an upper room in 
Jerusalem.f 

2. That the apostles and disciples were the only per- 
sons that saw the cloven tongues of fire, — were filled 
with the Holy Ghost,—and spake in different lan- 
guages. $ 

3. That on a report of this being " noised abroad^ 
* Acts xix. 29-32, f Acts i. 12-15. X Acts ii. 1-4, 



236 ANCIENT AND MODERN REVIVALS. 

the multitude came together.' 5 * These, it ought to be 
observed, had neither seen any thing that had occurred, 
nor even then received the Holy Ghost. j* Having only 
heard of the descent of the Spirit, their evidence, of 
course— allowing a trifle for lapse of time — was si- 
milar to what is furnished to every man in the present 
day who is confirmed in the truth by a perusal of the 
fact in the sacred pages. 

4. That when they heard the apostles speak in dif- 
ferent tongues, they, in common with all who read the 
account with seriousness and attention, " were amazed 
and marvelled.%" 

5. That instead of being effectually convinced, much 
more converted, they were all " in doubt ;" and some 
not only hung in a state of suspense, but " others 
mocking, said, These men are full of new wine."§ In 
this state, amazed, marvelling, doubting, and mocking, 
each part sustained by different persons probably, as in 
a drama, the miracle left them — unconvinced and uncon. 
verted. To attempt, therefore, to get rid of modern 
instantaneous conversions, by attributing those in the 
apostolic age to miracle, not only evinces a defect in 
biblical knowledge, a disposition to confine the Spirit's 
influence to peculiar modes and seasons, but an awful 
incapacity — from a want of experience — to treat on a 
subject so immediately connected with personal salva- 
tion and the sacred office. 

Turning from the miracle and its effects of amaze- 
ment, tyc, we find Peter publicly addressing the " mul- 
titude" convened on the occasion. || The general topics 
on whicn he enlarged were the predictions of the Old 
Testament in reference to the Messiah ; the signs of 
his coming ; the blessings of his kingdom ; his charac- 
ter ; his miracles ; his crucifixion ; his resurrection ; 
his ascension ; and the gift of the Holy Ghost.** What, 

* Acts ii. 5, 6. f Ver. 38. X Ver. 7-12. § Ver. 12-13. 
(I Ver. 14. ** Ver. 14-36. 



ANCIENT AND MODERN REVIVALS. 237 

then, are the facts of the case? They are these— and 
the appeal is made to the sacred records : 

1. That the probability is in favour of Peter having 

addressed the multitude in his own tongue — the lan- 
guage spoken by the Jews at the time : thus, he ac- 
costed them, " Ye men of Judaea, and all ye that dwell 
at Jerusalem," including both natives and strangers, to 
whom, by their residence, the language was familiar.' 1 ' 
In his more private conversations, and in his addresses 
to select parties, belonging to different nations, he, to- 
gether with his brethren, employed their own separate 
tongues. j 

2. That it was through the 'preaching of Christ cru- 
cified, and not through the miraculous gift of tongues 9 
that the multitudes were awakened : hence, it is af- 
firmed, " Now, when they heard these things" — heard 
that God had made that same Jesus, whom they had cru» 
cijied, both Lord and Christ, " they were pricked in 
their heart, and said unto Peter and to the rest of the 
apostles, Men and brethren, what shall we do ?"t 

3. That it was not till after the delivery of the gene- 
ral discourse that signs of genuine conversion succeeded, 
— Peter being obliged to urge the subject home to the 
bosoms of his auditors, with " Repent, and be baptized, 
every one of you, in the name of Jesus Christ, for the 
remission of sins, and ye shall receive the gift of the 
Holy Ghost ;"§ the whole, up to this moment, being 
deemed impenitent, unbaptized, unpardoned, and with- 
out the saving influence of the Spirit of God. It was 
only subsequent to this period that the inspired penman 
could observe, " Then they that gladly received his 
w'ord were baptized ; and that same day there were 
added unto them about three thousand souls. "|| 

From the whole of this statement, it is evident, that 
it was not the medium — not the tongue — not any num- 
ber of tongues — not even the miracle imparting the gift 

*Acteii.l4. fVer.8-11. X Ver. 36, 37. § Ver. 38, || Vcr. 41, 



238 ANCIENT AND MODERN REVIVALS. 

of those tongues, that produced the change, but the 
subject matter of the Christian ministry : the one — viz. 
the gift of tongues, as well it might, filled the mind with 
amazement ; the other—the words of God — effected the 
conversion of the heart ; and it is still that " word" ac- 
companied by the energy of the Holy Ghost, which the 
Divine Being has employed down to the present time as 
the grand and leading instrument in the conversion of 
sinners. If, agreeably to the original commission, the 
gospel was to be preefched to every creature, and 
throughout every era of time ; — if the same end was to 
be accomplished by it, which could only follow by the 
same accompanying influence, — it is rational to sup- 
pose, since the same necessity exists, that it will prove 
as much " the power of God to salvation" in the pre- 
sent, and, in Great Britain, as in the first century at 
Jerusalem. With the same instrument, operating on 
similar subjects, we are not only authorised to expect 
the same grand internal change, but also minor, exter- 
nal, and often incidental effects, to exhibit themselves. 

By paying a little attention to the subject, the differ- 
ence between an ancient and a modern revival will be 
found not so great, — and therefore not so alarming, asr 
some persons are led to imagine. The following are a 
few of the points of agreement : — 

AN ANCIENT REVIVAL A MODERN REVIVAL 

IN JERUSALEM. AMONG THE WESLEYANS. 

1. Prior to the religious 1. The preaching of the 
commotion in the holy city, Gospel invariably precedes 
" the word," as has already a revival of the work of 
been observed, was preach- God among the Methodists, 
ed by the apostles. Acts 

ii. 14. 

2 . The people were 2. Conviction of the ag- 
" pricked in their heart." gravating nature of moral 
Ver, 37. evil is experienced, and a 



ANCIENT AND MODERN REVIVALS. 



239 



3. There was a great 
enquiry among the persons 
seriously affected; anxiously- 
asking, "Men and brethren, 
what shall we do?" Acts 
ii. 37. 

4. The serious enquirers 
" continued in prayers." 
Ver. 42. 



5. To prayer, they added 
the " breaking of bread." 
Acts ii. 42, 46. 



desire, according to rule, 
to flee from the wrath to 
come, is expected in all 
who unite themselves to 
the Society. 

3. Enquirers, denomin- 
ated sincere seekers of sal- 
vation, multiply on those 
occasions ; their earnestness 
and language varying, ac- 
cording to the degree of 

feeling excited. 

4. Though prayer-meet- 
ings are regularly establish- 
ed throughout the connex- 
ion, they are much more 
numerous under a quicken- 
ing influence of the Spirit 
of God than at other times. 
Then, more than at other 
seasons, they pray " with- 
out ceasing ;" so much so 
indeed, as frequently to an- 
noy their prayerless neigh- 
bours. 

5. As no mention is made 
of wine in this case, and the 
private members were en- 
gaged in " breaking bread 
from house to house," it is 
warrantable to conclude, 
that an allusion is made to 
the Ayatfai lovefeasts, to 
which young converts are 
extremely partial, and 
which constitute a part of 
the prudential means of 
grace among the Wesley* 
ans. 



240 



ANCIENT AND MODERN REVIVALS. 



6. They gladly "receiv- 
ed" the " word" preached. 
Ver. 41. 



7. A love to the sanctu- 
ary of the Most High fol- 
lowed ; for they continued 
" daily with one accord in 
the temple." Acts ii. 46. 



8. The religion of .the 
temple entered their dwell- 
ings, in attestation of which, 
" they eat their meat with 
gladness and singleness of 
heart,"—" praising God." 
Acts ii. 46, 47. 



9. '." They continued 
steadfastly in the apostles' 
doctrine and fellowship." 
Ver. 42. 



10. The most expansive 
benevolence was manifest- 



6. Ministers are looked 
upon as angels of God — 
and their message is the 
joy of the soul ; and the 
man who is most useful in 
a revival, is most beloved. 

7. Places of worship are 
crowded — old chapels are 
enlarged — and new ones 
are built. The language 
of the people is, " How 
amiable are thy taberna- 
cles, O Lord of Hosts !" 
In a moment's absence, 
they are ready to exclaim, 
" My soul longeth, yea, 
even fainteth for the courts 
of the Lord." 

8. At tables, where 
" grace before meat" was 
never heard, and in houses 
where a family altar was 
never erected, the voice of 
prayer is poured forth, and 
the voice of praise makes 
melody to " them that are 
without." 

9. Uniting themselves in 
church fellowship to the 
body, the young converts 
conduct themselves agree- 
ably to the gospel, and to 
the rules and regulations 
imposed upon them by a 
Conference of Christian 
ministers. 

10. There is perhaps not 
a Christian community in 



ANCIENT AND MODERN REVIVALS. 241 

ed, as a fruit of the Chris- the world, which supports a 
tianity possessed : they more extensive system of 
"sold their possessions and Charity than the Wesley- 
goods" — •" parted them to ans. Such are their givings, 
all, as every man had need" that they have been ad- 
— broke " bread from house vanced as an objection 
to house" — "and had all against the Preachers, as 
things common." Acts ii. though they were too liber- 
44, 45, 46. ally supported ; and these 

have increased and de- 
creased with the spiritual 
life of the body. 

In what, then, consists the principal difference ? In 
Jerusalem, the converts " had favour with all the peo- 
ple ;" in modern times, an objection is taken against 
revivals, because of the occasional noise, which forms 
an accompaniment. 

There are persons that merit an apologist, and may 
be excused for the part they take in attempting to quell 
an apparent tumult, when persons professing unusual 
sanctity, and who have been disciplined in the midst of 
such assemblies, have taken offence at them. They 
have sometimes raised as great a clamour for order, as 
the clamour has actually amounted to, which they have 
attempted to silence. Order, decorum, confusion, 
&c, very often mean just as much as we are disposed 
to make of them. Imagine a magnificent edifice, in the 
course of erection, rivalling, in its splendour, ihe noble 
minster at York. Persons totally unacquainted with the 
plans and designs of the architect, on seeing a hundred 
men employed in different places, crossing and re-cross- 
ing each other's path, hewing wood, drawing water, 
mixing, chiseling, hammering, moulding, with a hun- 
dred other et ceteras, would be ready to label the whole 
as one immense mass of confusion. But the architect 
himself, confident in the harmonious movement of his 
own plans, and who can connect the whole from begin* 

X 



242 ANCIENT AND MODERN REVIVALS. 

ning to end, sees that every man is in his proper place, 
and that the building is regularly rising — proceeding 
with order — going on towards completion. This, though 
not a perfect, is a sufficient illustration of a prayer- 
meeting. A hundred persons are associated together, 
with a hundred wants, in a hundred different states, 
with a hundred objects in view, and with as many dif- 
ferent modes of accomplishing their purposes. Here is 
one dumb, and as a beast before his Maker, capable 
only of expressing himself by a sigh, A second, more 
deeply wrought upon, gives utterance to his sorrow by 
a heavy sob. A third breaks silence with a groan. A 
fourth, drinking still deeper of the wormwood and gall, 
actually roars out for the disquietude of his soul. A 
fifth is wrestling with God in mighty prayer for the 
blessing of pardon, while a dozen more penitents are 
smiting on their breasts, and each responds to the prayer 
publicly offered, " God be merciful to mq a sinner" — a 
score of voices lifted up at the same time, and striking 
in, like the people of old, with a hearty "Amen." Two 
or three persons, in the midst of this, having obtained 
peace with God, being very differently affected, are 
ready to commence a song of praise, and nothing but 
the word " Glory" dwells upon their lips. Though the 
prayer publicly presented to God is one, yet the states of 
the people differ. It cannot perhaps reach every case, 
because every case is not known to the person who is 
the mouth of the audience ; and persons will be affected 
in proportion as it reaches themselves — thus passing 
from one to another : and till every case is reached, 
agony itself will compel the penitent to throw in his 
sententious and ejaculatory interruptions, in order to 
hasten the blessing. If the people were in one state, 
had all arrived at the same stage of religious knowledge, 
had the same strength of intellect, and the same vietfs, 
they might then be brought to keep tolerable time with 
each other, like a number of clocks or watches. Until 
this is the case, the character of a meeting, composed 



ANCIENT AND MODERN REVIVALS. 243 

of persons taking the kingdom of heaven by holy vio- 
lence, will vary : and to a person entering into a place 
at the period just described, the whole might appear a 
scene of confusion, and he might, by way of hushing it 
into stillness, bawl out more lustily than any of them, 
for order and for a constable. But such a person should 
recollect, that man's confusion is very often God's order. 
The Divine Being, who sees not as man-— man, who is 
unable to look beyond the veil of humanity — beholds 
the same Spirit at work, though various in his opera- 
tions — the same grand work going on, though in differ- 
ent 'persons — the work of prayer, praise, conviction, re- 
pentance, pardon, holiness, love, joy, peace, all proceeding 
in regular order, not confusedly mixed up in one human 
soul, at the same moment of time, but distinct, in different 
persons, A few varied gestures or movements to the eye 
of the beholder, or a few jarring sounds to the ear of the 
hearer, may confound the individual himself who thus 
looks and listens, but cannot change the distinct charac- 
ter of the work. A thousand congregations met at the 
same moment, under the immediate eye of God, engaged 
in prayer and praise, though in different places, are not 
more distinct, or less to be charged with disorder, than 
the separate characters in a prayer-meeting, each of 
whom has his distinct work of grace upon his heart, and 
his distinct sentiments, "uttered or unexpressed," on 
his tongue. There is nothing irrational in different 
men, in different states, being differently affected, and 
manifesting those internal effects by external signs. 
Confusion in the mass to man, is order to God in the 
individual. They have only to be separated to appear 
so to their fellows. A partition of burnt clay, three 
inches thick, will settle the difference even with man, 
between confusion and order; on each side of a half 
dozen of which partitions, separate groups may be dif- 
ferently engaged, one in sighing, another in groaning, 
a third in singing, a fourth in murmuring accents, like 
the noise of many waters, following the minister in the 

x 2 



244 ANCIENT AND MODERN REVIVALS. 

Litany, or in any part of the Church Service. Let men 
only be saved systematically, with the charm of brick 
and mortar between them, and the work at once be- 
comes genuine ! But the moment the groaners blend 
with the sighers, the work loses its character, as though 
the ear of the Saviour could not distinguish sounds, the 
eye of the Saviour could not discover the shades of dif- 
ference in the work, or the different workings of the 
heart ! A worthy gentleman who wished to systema- 
tize matters, and have every thing done decently and in 
order, feeling, as a member of the Establishment, for 
the honour of religion, discovered his concern for, and 
insight into divine things, in rather a singular manner. 
There was a revival of religion among the Wesleyans 
in Manchester, in the summer of 1816, and the grand 
place of resort for the devout was Oldham-street chapel. 
As there was an occasional mingling of voices in the 
chapel, and these had risen so high as to bring the 
assemblies under the imputation of " noisy meetings," 
the gentleman referred to, knowing that Dr. Law, then 
Bishop of Chester, was about to visit Manchester, took 
the alarm, and went to an influential member of society, 
to see whether the work, or, in other words, the meet- 
ings, could not be suspended awhile, till the dignitary 
had left the town, that the credit of the town might not 
be injured in his estimation. The manufacture of the 
town will at once account for the gentleman's notions; 
going on the supposition that the work of God might be 
managed like the machinery in a cotton mill, put in 
motion when we please — worked slow or fast — or laid 
to rest between meals ! The work might be suspended 
here, if it could be effected hereafter ; but this can only 
be shewn on popish principles, and on the principles of 
the Bishop himself, who hesitated not to pray for one of 
the royal family after her demise, and which prayer is 
yet in print, in the funeral sermon delivered on the 
occasion. Certainly, groans in the living are as jus- 
tifiable as prayers for the dead, and earnestness in reli- 
gion as praiseworthy as indifference. 



THE 



SUBSTANCE 



OP 



AN ADDRESS 



DELIVERED BY THE LATE 



SAMUEL HICK, 



WESLEYAN METHODIST CHAPEL, 
MARKET WEIGHTON, 

YORKSHIRE. 



ADVERTISEMENT. 



The following Address, which is in the expository form, and 
which ought to be designated only the substance of what was 
advanced, was delivered in the Wesleyan Methodist Chapel, 
Market Weighton, Sunday, May 23d, 1824, and was taken 

down by Mr. William B. P , a "ready writer," from 

whose MS. it has been printed. Such was the effect it pro- 
duced upon honest Samuel himself, partly from the unexpected 
nature of the circumstance, and partly from the novel feeling 
excited by the sudden repetition of the thoughts, through the 
medium of another, upon his own ear, when he was converted 
from the preacher to the hearer, after service in the parlour of 

Miss P , that he burst into tears, returned thanks to God, 

and hoped, that, if printed, it would prove a blessing to thou- 
sands when his bones were mouldering in the dust. The hope 
of appearing in print, cherished by a wish to be useful, moved 
like a spirit with him through the whole of his Christian pil- 
grimage — desirous that in death, as in life, the warning voice 
might never cease to be heard. Its publication requires an 
apology, and knowing this, it was purposely withheld from the 
first edition; and, had the biographer consulted either his taste 
cr his judgment, it would have been withheld from the present. 
But, as an imperfect copy has gone forth, in harlequin habili- 
ments, for the laugh of the multitude, it seemed due to the 
body to which the deceased belonged, as well as his own cha- 
racter, that it should appear in the homely, yet general cos- 
tume of his native isle, and not as a stranger and foreigner — 
scarcely to be recognized in his own neighbourhood ; for, even 
there, few will be found to say, in reference to the publication 
in question, "Thy speech bewrayeth thee." It is painful 



CCxlviii. ADVERTISEMENT. 

when a man's friends — merely from the manner of serving 
him, should'be mistaken for his enemies ! 

Though there is not any thing in the Address which a reader 
of the Memoir has not been prepared to expect, with the excep- 
tion of something like arrangement, — for which Samuel, it is sus- 
pected, is partly indebted to Mr. P., and though, as a composi- 
tion, it takes an extremely humble stand, if not utterly be- 
neath critical notice, — yet now, that it is before the public, it 
becomes the duty of those who cannot but regret its publica- 
tion, in the form referred to, to make, as the friends of the de- 
ceased, the best use of its contents. There are two or three 
references to his own personal history, which are not without 
interest. His knowledge may be generally traced up to two 
sources — the sacred text and his own experience. His first 
appeal was made to the Bible ; and, trying its truths upon his 
own feelings and practice, he immediately proceeded, — being 
satisfied of their accordance with each other, — to offer his 
views to his fellow-creatures, concluding that, on the testi- 
mony of two such witnesses, there ought to be no gainsaying, 
no resistance, but an immediate adoption of what was advan- 
ced, without making due allowance, or perhaps even thinking of 
either the rationality or free, agency of the persons whom he was 
addressing. He thus often became the textuist and expositor 
of his own experience : he saw, he felt, he believed : and his 
assertion was deemed sufficient to convince others. 

In speaking of the Supreme Being " soon making a job of 
it," he was employing the language of his trade, and drawing 
from his own resources, in reference to his sudden conversion, 
and also to that of others, as in the case of the innkeeper's 
wife, whose change was as rapid as his own. The generality 
of his auditors were in the humblest walks of life; and the 
manner in which he adverts to the trials and mercies of the 
poor, brings the subject home to their business and to their 
bosoms in a way in which some of our men of refined taste, 
and of soaring genius, would neither have discovered nor 
stooped to-<-8ome hovering always somewhere beyond mid- 



ADVERTISEMENT. CCXli.V. 

heaven, and others relishing only the beauty and elegancy of 
language and sentiment. 

While some of the distinctions, as in the case of " spirit 
and soul," — in which he appears to be aided a little by his 
short-hand friend, — are too nice for the discriminative faculties 
he possessed, there are others in which he appears to advan- 
tage ; as in the different uses he makes of rejoicing and 
thanksgiving ; referring the one to the Christian's feelings t 
and the other to the mercies through which those feelings are 
excited. His observations on " quench not the Spirit," are 
natural, and the points touched upon, if attended to, such as 
are calculated to improve the heart. The simile of the 
" trees," which, by the way, has been partly employed in the 
Memoir, without the writer being aware at the time that it 
had been used by Samuel, is one of those modes of illustra- 
tion calculated to produce similar effects upon others ; and the 
use of it is no more derogatory to the dignity of the subject, 
though rather homely withal, than the use of a barren fig- 
tree, dug about and dunged, for the instruction of the multi- 
tude. Perhaps not quite so much can be said in favour of his 
comparison of different degrees of grace with the coinage of 
the realm; yet laughable though it be, it contains in it a truth 
which every judicious reader will at once perceive, without 
being disposed to push it beyond the meaning intended to be 
eonveyed — that each succeeding blessing from God rises in 
real value, in the same proportion as it brings us into confor- 
mity with his owm divine image : nor will the biblical student 
be much offended when he recollects that Samuel might be led 
to the association of religion with the produce of the mint, 
through his mind hovering, like a bird, over the servant that 
" digged in the earth, and hid his lord's money ;" and over 
that other passage, " The kingdom of heaven is like unto 
treasure hid in a field;" or the female, who, "having ten 
pieces of silver/' lost one of them— swept the house— found it 
— and rejoiced. 



THE 

SUBSTANCE 

OF 



AN ADDRESS. 



" Rejoice evermore. Pray without ceasing. In every thing give thanks : for 
this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you. Quench not the 
Spirit. Despise not prophesying?. Prove all things : hold fast that which ia 
good. Abstain from all appearance of evil. And the very God of peace 
sanctify you wholly : and I pray God your whole spirit, and soul, and body, 
be preserved blameless unto the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ." 

1 Thess. v. 16—23. 



I have to tell you, that you have only an old blacksmith 
in the pulpit to-night, and that you may look for very 
plain truths. When I first began to preach, I was sadly 
afraid, lest I should not be able to recollect my text, for 
I could neither read nor write. But now, blessed be 
the Lord, I can do both. The Lord is a wonderful 
teacher ; and when he undertakes any work, he can 
soon make a job of it. I cannot preach a learned ser- 
mon ; but I can give you the word of God just as I have 
it before me. 

" Rejoice evermore." — The text says " evermore" 
What ! rejoice in tribulation, in famine and nakedness, 
j — when there is no money in the pocket, and no meat 
in the cupboard ? Was there ever a man, think you, 
that could do so ? O yes, my friends, I can find you a 
man that did. What says Habakkuk ? " Although the 
fig -tree shall not blossom, neither shall fruit he in the 
vines ; the labour of the olive shall fail, and the fields 



252 THE SUBSTANCE OF AN ADDHESS. 

shall yield no meat ; the flock shall he cut off from the 
fold, and there shall he no herd in the stalls : yet I will 
rejoice in the Lord, I will joy in the God of my salvation" 
Do you think I cannot find you another in the word of 
God? O yes, I can. What says Job, after all his 
losses and sufferings? " Naked came lout of my mo- 
therms womb, and naked shall I return thither : the Lord 
gave, and the Lord hath taken away :" and what then ? 
Why, " Blessed he the name of the Lord!" Who 
would have expected this ? Not the infidel, I am sure. 
He would rather have thought that Job ought to have 
said, " And cursed be the name of the Lord !" And do 
you think, friends, that we are going to be beat by these 
Old Testament saints — those that lived in the dark 
ages ? No, no. St. Paul speaks about being "joyful 
in tribulation" In the text, he says, " rejoice ever- 
more ;" — " and again I say rejoice" You may do as 
you like, friends ; but, for my part, I am determined to 
enjoy my privilege — to " rejoice evermore" as here 
commanded. 

" Pray without ceasing." That is, live in the 
spirit of prayer ; and pray with your voice as often as 
you have opportunity. You may pray when you are at 
your work, as well as when you are upon your knees. 
Many a time have I prayed while shoeing a horse ; and 
I know that God has both heard and answered me. 
Were it not for this inward prayer, how could we 
" pray without ceasing ?" St. Paul did not mean, that 
we were to leave our business, or our families, and be 
always upon our knees. No, no. I have my business 
to mind, and my family to provide for : and, glory be 
to God ! while we " provide things honest in the sight 
of all men," we may " work out" our " salvation" by 
praying secretly to Him. But this is not all. We 
should have set times for prayer, both public and private ; 
we should pray with our families, and also in the house 
of God. It would be a sad thing, if, in the day of 
judgment, any of our children were to rise up, and say, 



THE SUBSTANCE OF AN ADDRESS. 253 

" I never heard my parents pray ; I may have heard 
them curse, and swear, and tell lies, but not pray." 
Other children may say, " We have heard our parents 
pray, — for they said the Lord's prayer ; the very first 
word of which was a lie in their mouths. They knew 
that God was not their 'Father? they neither loved 
nor served him, but were of their father the devil" O, 
my friends, this outside, this formal religion, will not 
do ; we must get it into our hearts. Then our prayers 
will be acceptable to God, and useful to ourselves. 

"In every thing give thanks." What! for a bad 
debt, or a broken leg? for parish pay? for a dinner of 
herbs? for a thatched cottage? Aye, praise God for 
all things. He knows what is best for us. We have 
more than we deserve ; and we should neither take a 
bite of bread, nor a drink of water, without giving 
thanks for them. If we were more thankful for our 
mercies, God would give us more : but we are by nature 
so very ungrateful — either murmuring against provi- 
dence, or expecting so much more than common food 
and raiment, that we need a positive command, before 
we will give thanks for what God gives to us out of his 
free boun% r . — You must give thanks, then ; u for this is 
the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you." Now, 
the will of God should be the law to man ; and you hear, 
that it " is the will of God in Christ Jesus," that Christ- 
ian men should " rejoice evermore; pray without ceas- 
ing ; and in every thing give thanks." Another part of 
the text is, 

" Quench not the Spirit." You that have the 
Spirit of God, see that you do not quench it. Grace is 
a very tender plant, and may easily be destroyed. You 
need not go to bed drunk, to quench the Spirit. ''It may 
be quenched by neglecting prayer, by giving your minds 
to foolish and trilling objects, by attending to earthly 
things, by refusing to do good, by not praying with your 
families. — The master with whom I was an apprentice, 
never used familv praver : I have often thought of it 

Y 



254 THE SUBSTANCE OF AN ADDRESS. 

since : and it was no wonder, that we grew up so very 
wicked. When I got converted, it was as natural for 
me to pray with my family, as it was to live. I should 
be like a fish out of water without prayer. — But we may 
also grieve or quench the Spirit, by refusing to do our 
duty, and by speaking rashly with our mouths. I re- 
member quenching the Spirit of God in this way once. 
A man came into my shop, and asked me to do a job for 
him. Being afraid he would never pay, I felt vexed that 
he should ask me, and hastily told him that I would not 
do it. But I soon felt that I had done wrong, and would 
have given almost any thing to have had my words back 
again. Besides, I thought the refusal might lose the 
man a half day's work. But I was off my guard ; the 
devil gained his point; and pride hindered me from con- 
fessing my sin. Well, what was to be done ? Satan 
had gotten me down ; but I was not to lie there, and 
give all up. No. I said to my wife, " I have lost my 
evidence of the favour of God ; I will go to Mr. Bram- 
well, — he is a man of prayer, and will help me to obtain 
it again." He did so, and I found it, — glory be to God! 
"Despise not prophesyings." Do not turn your 
backs upon the word of God ; for "faith come$k by hear- 
ing, and hearing by the word of God." I told you, that 
you have only an old blacksmith for your preacher. 
But you must not think, that, because of that, you have 
no need to repent, and turn to God. What I say, is 
true ; and if I speak according to the will of God, you 
have as much right to attend to what I say, as though 
the greatest preacher in the world were in the pulpit. 
You may not think me a very wise preacher, but I am a 
very safe one for you ; for if I preach at all, ft must be 
the Gospel of Jesus Christ. I know nothing else ; and 
if I were to lose my religion, I should not offer to preach 
another sermon. — But I must get on, or I shall preach 
too long, — and long sermons do no good. In the first 
age of Christianity, some were for Paul, some for Apol- 
los, and some for Cephas. Some said one thing, and 



THE SUBSTANCE OF AN ADDRESS. 255 

some said another: but we are to "try the spirits whe- 
ther they are of God." And St. Paul says, 

"Prove all things." Do not be content with any 
religion that comes to hand, but examine it, and see if it 
be right — according to Scripture. Some folk boast 
about not changing their religion, and that — however 
they may live — reckon they will not have to seek their 
religion at last. Alas, for them ! They are called 
Christians on no better ground than Turks are called 
Mahomedans, — merely because their fathers and their 
grandfathers were called so. When I first became reli- 
gious, I thought I would join the best people and be 
right, if possible. I knew what the Church was ; so that 
I did not need to try it. I went to a Catholic chapel, 
as the Catholics say they are the oldest Christians in the 
world, and make great pretensions to be the true Church. 
But I did not understand their Latin prayers and monk- 
ish ceremonies, and found I could get no good to my 
soul there. I then went to a Quaker-Meeting ; but 
there was never a word spoken ; and I wanted to know 
how I might love and serve God. Afier that, I went to 
the Baptists, and the Calvinists ; but the Methodists 
suited me best. Still I am not slavishly bound to any 
party ; and if I could find a gainer, a better, or a*cheaper 
way of getting to heaven, I would willingly go that way. 
— " Hold fast that which is good.' 1 Having found reli- 
gion, don't be so ready to part with it. Hold it fast. 
The world, the flesh, and the devil, will strive to get it 
from you ; but be determined sooner to part with your 
life, than make shipwreck of faith and a good conscience. 

H Abstain from all appearance of evil." This is 
a capital direction. How many people get wrong 
through self-conceit, and proud confidence ! " O," say 
they, ' ; there is no harm in such a thing, and such a 
thing; it is not clearly forbidden in Scripture." They 
are not sure whether it is right or wrong ; so they will 
even make the venture, although the Scripture says, 
" He that doubteth is damned" — that is, condemned in 



256 THE SUBSTANCE OF AN ADDRESS. 

his conscience. If there be an "appearance of evil" 
do not venture. When I go any where on business, I 
always strive to get out of the way of wicked men. I 
am like a fish out of water here again ; I cannot live out 
of my element; I am always afraid of being corrupted 
by them, " Can a man take fire info his bosom, and 
his clothes not be burnt?" Now, I am coming to the 
very best part of the subject : I am sure I can say some- 
thing about sanctification, for I love it best. 

" And the very God of teace sanctify you whol- 
ly, THROUGHOUT SPIRIT, SOUL, AND BODY." It Seems to 

me that man is made up of three parts, — a spirit, which 
is immortal, — a soul, which he has as an animal, — and 
a body, which is the dwelling-place of the soul and 
spirit. The body will soon die ; and of each it may 
soon be said, " Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to 
dust." But when that part of us which is taken from 
the earth, shall join again its " kindred dust," it will 
then have passed into another state, and will either be 
" numbered with the blest," or " with the damned cast 
out." Should it have been made holy during the time 
it was united to the body, it will go to a place of happi- 
ness. If unsanctified, it will be driven to a place of 
misery. * Some men have thought, that the terms " spirit 
and soul" in the text, refer to the powers and disposi- 
tions of the mind ; but which ever way it is, and whe- 
ther you divide man into three parts, or thirty parts, St. 
Paul means to include them all in this entire sanctifica- 
tion. We are first to be sanctified, and then to be 
"preserved blameless unto the coming of our Lord Jesus 
Christ" The justification of a sinner is a great work, 
which none but God can perform ; but to sanctify that 
sinner wholly, is almost more than the mind can under- 
stand. There are many who stagger at the doctrine of 
entire sanctification, and cannot think that it refers to 
any state of grace upon earth. But St. Paul prays that 
the Thessalonians may be thus sanctified, and often 
speaks of it in his other Epistles. He declares, that 



THE SUBSTANCE OF AN ADDRESS. 257 

il this is the will of God, even your sanctification." I had 
doubts about this doctrine once : but I was convinced of 
the truth of it one day, while going through a wood. I 
saw two trees which had been felled. One of them had 
been cut away to make a ship, or a coffin, or something 
else : but the stump was left in the ground, and young- 
trees were again growing out of the old one. Ah, 
thought I, this is like a man who is justified. The 
stump of his evil nature remains, and fresh evils spring 
up and trouble him. Well, Sirs, I came to the other 
tree. It was laid upon the ground, but the roots were 
stubbed up, so that it could not grow again. I said to 
myself, this tree is like a man in a sanctified state ; the 
strings are cut which tied him to the world ; and the 
earth is no longer about his roots ; " the world is crucu 
fied" to him, and he "unto the world." I got a fair 
view of the doctrine of sanctification that day ; and it 
was the Lord himself, that made use of these two trees 
to teach me what I desireo>to know. I sometimes com- 
pare religion to the best coin of the realm. First, there 
is repentance : this may be compared to a seven-shilling 
piece; though there is but little of it, still it is good. 
Then comes pardon : this is like half a guinea. Next 
comes sanctification : this is like a guinea. Now, who 
would be content with seven shillings, or even with half 
a guinea, when he might just as well have a whole 
guinea, by applying for it ? 

What a blessed world this will be, when the Christian 
church zealously contends for the doctrine of Christian 
holiness! Nearly the whole of our natural disorders 
are owing to our sins. If people were more religious, 
there would not be so much need of doctors ; and, when 
the Millenium comes, they may get a fresh trade, — 
for, as there will then be no more sin in the world, so 
there will be no more pain or sickness. This state of 
holiness is not without its trials. As you got into it by 
faith, you may get out of it by unbelief. You must 
not think that the battle is ended, or the w r ork is done. 



256 THE SUBSTANCE OF AN ADDRESS, 

when you have stepped into this liberty of the Gospel, 
No : you are to be 

" Preserved blameless.'' When persecution or tri- 
bulation arises, whether from the devil or man, do not 
part with your sanctification. It will abide a storm. Do 
not slip into a state which is more dangerous, though 
not so much exposed ; and, if you should lose your hold, 
strive to get it again. It sometimes happens, in a great 
battle, that a particular house or barn is taken and re- 
taken many times in a day. I have lost this sanctifica- 
tion different times, but I always got it again. I have 
suffered a good deal for sanctification. The devil once 
got hold of me thus : — A cunning man came into my 
shop one day, and asked me what good I got by going 
to lovefeasts and other meetings, and whether it was not 
possible to live to God without so much trouble and so 
much praying? What he said set me a reasoning. I 
thought I could, and began to try ; but I soon lost my 
evidence of sanctification, and as soon felt my loss. I 
was like old Pilgrim, who had lost his roll, and went 
back to find it. 

There are people who believe that sin will never be 
destroyed but by death ; and thus they make death a 
mightier conqueror than Jesus Christ. The founders of 
our Church had other views, for they taught us to 
pray, that the " thoughts of our hearts may be cleansed 
by the inspiration of the Holy Spirit." If the thoughts 
are cleansed, we are sure that the words will be holy 
and the life good ; for it is out of the heart, as the 
fountain, that all evils flow. The language is nothing 
but the bell, and the hands the index, to show what is 
within. If there was no clock-work in the inside, we 
should never know the hour of the day. The promise 
of the Saviour is, that the gospel shall be preached as 
a witness among all nations, and that then the end shall 
come. The end of what ? — the end of the world? No, 
no ; the wickedness of the wicked shall come to an end, 
and the earth shall be filled with the glory of God. 



THE SUBSTANCE Of AN ADDRESS. 259 

This doctrine I will preach to the end of my life. If 
the king were to make a decree, that, if any man dared 
to preach the doctrine of sanctification, he should have 
his head cut off, I would willingly go and lay my head 
upon the block, and would shout with my last breath, 
" May the very God of peace sanctify you wholly, through* 
out body, soul, and spirit, and preserve you blameless unto 
the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ" O friends, get 
this sanctification of the heart ! pray to God for it ear- 
nestly ; believe that it is your privilege to enjoy it ; 
and claim the blessing by faith in Jesus Christ. 

The Papists talk of a purgatory -after death ; but I 
have been in one in this life : — 

" *Tis worse than death my God to love, 
And not my God alone*" 

I never mean to be in this purgatory again. While I 
live in the enjoyment of this religion, I will invite others 
to partake of it. Yes, I will preadi this sanctification 



-" While I've breath, 



And, when my voice is lost in death, 
Praise shall employ my nobler powers." 

g 
Sin has led many a man to destruction, but I never 
heard that holiness ever injured any one. I had a man 
that lived with me : he was a very good workman, but 
determined to live in sin. He would never come in to 
family prayer, and it grieved me sadly that any man 
should live in my house who was such an enemy to god- 
liness. He was such a spendthrift and reprobate that 
he had hardly any clothes to his back, and was always in 
debt at the alehouses and shoemaker's. Well, I thought, 
" this must come to an end ;" and I determined to part 
with him. While reasoning one day upon it, I thought 
again, " How many years has God had patience with 
thee, Sammy? Why, five-and-twenty years!" Then 
I said to myself, " I must have a bit more patience 
with this poor fellow, and try some other means to bring 



260 THE SUBSTANCE OF AN ADDRESS. 

about his conversion." Well, Sirs, I set a trap for him, 
and baited it with faith and prayer. I got him persuaded 
to go to a lovefeast. The people wondered to see him 
there. He went out of curiosity, to hear what the 
friends had to say, and, it may be, to make sport of 
them. But God found him out, and brought him into 
great distress of soul. This ended in his conversion. 
God made a bran new man of him ; and he now finds 
that godliness has the promise of this life. He looks a 
hundred pound better than he did. He soon began to 
pay off his old debts, and now lives without making fresh 
ones. Did sin ever do a man any good like this? No. 
It promises much, but it never performs what it pro- 
mises. The truth is, it has nothing to give ; for " the 
wages of sin is death." Every sinner will shrink from 
the payment of those wages which he has earned by a 
life of sin. 

It is religion that makes good husbands, good wives, 
good children, good masters, and good servants. It is 
the best thing a man can have in this world, and it is 
what will fit him for heaven. May God save you ! I 
hope I shall meet you all in heaven. I feel such love 
to y&u, that I could take you all in my arms and carry 
you into Abraham's bosom. O, that every person in 
this congregation may turn from his evil ways, and be- 
come a new creature ! May " the very God of peace 
sanctify you wholly, and preserve you blameless in body, 
soul, and spirit !" Amen ! 



HYMNS 

Selected by the Subject of the Memoir, to be sung at his 
Funeral. 



HYMN I. 

1. My life's a shade ; my days 

Apace to death decline : 
My Lord is life ; he'll raise 

My dust again, even mine, 
Sweet truth to me! I shall arise, 
And with these eyes my Saviour see; 

2. My peaceful grave shall keep 

My bones to that sweet day 
I wake from my long sleep 

And leave my bed of clay. 
Sweet truth to me ! I shall arise, 
And with these eyes my Saviour see, 

3. My Lord his angels shall 

Their golden trumpets sound j 
At whose most welcome call 
My grave shall be unbound. 
Sweet truth to me! I shall arise, 
And with these eyes my Saviour see, 

4. I said sometimes with tears, 

*'Ah me ! I'm loath to die:" 
Lord, silence thou these fears ; 

My life's with thee on high. 
Sweet truth to me! I shall arise, 
And with these eyes my Saviour see; 



262 HYMNS. 



What means my trembling heart, 

To be thus shy of death ? 
My life and I sha'nt part, 
Though I resign my breath. 
Sweet truth to me! I shall arise, 
And with these eyes my Saviour see. 

Then welcome, harmless grave; 

By thee to heaven I go. 
My Lord his death shall save 
Me from the flames below. 
Sweet truth to me ! I shall arise, 
And with these eyes my Saviour see. 



HYMN II. 

1. He's gone! the spotless soul is fled, 
And number'd with the peaceful dead, 

To glorious bliss removed ; 
Summoned to take his seat above, 
In mansions of celestial love, 

And permanent delight. 

2. Here all his pains and sufferings ends, 
Safe in the bosom of his friend, 

His Saviour and bis God; 
His warfare's past, his time is o'er, 
And he shall never suffer more ; 
From pain for ever free. 

CHORUS. 

He's landed in the arms of God, 
And wash'd his robes in Jesu's blood, 
And stands before the throne. 



GLOSSARY. 



Oftentimes, pronounced offens. 



Oar, 


homer. 


Church, 


cherch, sometimes chirck* 


Missionaries, . 


mishoners. 


Eaten, 


hetten* 


Eat, 


eight. 


Societies, 


sieties. - 


Would, 


wod. 


Open, 


hoppen. 


People, 


pepell. 


Perfect, 


parfit, or parfeat, generally purftt* 


Take, 


tak. 


Outpouring, 


howtpowrtng, exceedingly broad. 


Sown, 


sawn. 


Soon, 


soen. 


Where, 


whur, ichor, wor. 


Ordered, 


auder'd. 


Israel, 


. . . . Hesrele. 


Should, 


sud. 


Set, 


setten. 


Who, 


hoe. 


Mercy, 


. . . . marcy. 


What, 


. ... wat. 


Enter, 


. .. . henter. 


It, 


hit. 


Us, 


. .. . hus. 


Awake, 


wakken. 


Methodists, 


. . . . Metterdisses, or Metherdisses. 


Methodist, 


, ... Metherdis. 


Turned, 


, . . . torned. 


Wet, 


.... weet. 


A ladder, 


. . . . a stile, a stee. 


Foot, 


foet, 1 


Fool, 

School, 

Noon, 


J , 6 \ divided nearly into two 

— sk0€l > \ syllables. 
noen, | J 


Night, 


. . . . neet, J 



Thus, agreeably to the above, Samuel, together with his less 
educated neighbours, would pray for the Lord to " wakken 1 ' 
the slumbering sinner. 



FINIS. 



U L_ X ^J 



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